Maybe This Time
by ineedtoleavethissite
Summary: It's not a big deal: Marley simply wants to try out the v while she's busy deciding between two d's, and Santana is merely biding her time while ignoring Brittany. Easy. {A three-part story about new beginnings.}
1. Part 1: I'll be lucky

**Don't own Glee, or the lyrics to any Cabaret songs.**

**This takes place post 4x08, keeping some elements of canon intact – mostly Bram – and disregards the rest – mostly glossing over serious eating disorders.**

* * *

Here's Santana's problem with Christmas: every-fucking-thing.

This year her problems are only multiplied by Brittany not only deciding that her best source of comfort after the break up was jumping on top of the first trout-shaped mouth in her path, but also engaging in a spur of the moment marriage to that motherfucker. Which, well. Santana's mind must just be too small to compute the reasoning behind that.

(Also, if that stupid apocalypse was even real, Santana would have thought she'd be the person Brittany wanted to spend it with, but... Maybe that's Santana's fault anyway, in hindsight.)

What bothers her the most is how no one even pays her any attention after her return to Lima. Sure, sectionals was grand and all – spectacular finale fail aside – but that doesn't excuse the fact that a McKinley high legend like herself is just fading into obscurity as soon as December rolls around. Finn should just be thankful she showed up to his joke of a leadership camp in the first place. But Brittany was there, so. Santana probably couldn't stop herself if she tried.

If she had known about Sam beforehand, though, she could have spared herself the trip that ruined her savings and forced her to stay in this cracktown over the holidays due to exhausted funds now that her parents put her own a limited allowance plan. One day she'll get to sue Finn for this mess so he can reimburse her bus tickets, she's sure of it.

And like, she doesn't want to get all emotional up in here, but she's never seen the glee club so dispersed over the holidays. It's... disconcerting, in a way.

That's how she ends up spending the afternoon with her innocent, boring little apprentice. Besides passing out in the middle of her performance, Marley's done just about nothing to hold Santana's attention for more than two minutes. But let's not make light of that particular subject, Santana decides, because God only knows she is all too aware of what it's like treading down that dangerous little path.

She feels a bit bad for the kid, but whatever, she'll put her hospital visit down to the fact that there's really nothing better to occupy her time with now that Quinn's back to ice queen bitch-slap mode, and no one should have to spend any day in December in a hospital bed alone.

Marley looks fucking tiny in said bed. Then again, girl's a stick, so. Santana feels something boil in her gut, because on one hand, she's a bit relieved that she's never made it to this point herself, and on the other, she feels mad that Marley had to go through this, that she couldn't think about what she's been doing.

"I thought you were in here to get better. I can't tell your limbs from the sheets."

A hoarse, "Santana?" makes the anger fade and sympathy take its place.

Santana sighs and sits down on the chair in the far corner. She levels Marley with a stare. "You been eating?"

She gets a faint smile and nod in answer. It amazes Santana how Marley's disposition can still be so positive and lively whilst looking like absolute shit.

"Where's your boyfriend? Sorry, boyfriend_s_."

Marley looks away, and suddenly Santana feels bad for asking. Tentative subject then, okay, moving on.

"Do you have enough stuff here to pass the time, at least? Want me to swipe a Cosmo from the cafeteria?"

Marley shakes her head, and Santana nods. Well, she's been here, got the t-shirt, and that's her charity done for the day, she guesses. As Santana gets up to leave, though, Marley looks fearful that she's being left alone once more, and so Santana covers her move by making it look likes she's adjusting her seat and sits back down. They sit there in comfortable silence until Santana is sure that Marley's asleep, then she gets up and goes to stand at the beside, tentatively touching Marley's hand before she leaves.

Santana starts when Marley suddenly wakes.

"Wait, Santana," Marley says, probably feeling the oncoming absence. She looks Santana in the eye and says, "Thank you for this."

"I didn't do anything," Santana says, then gives Marley's hand a squeeze before walking out.

Yeah, so whatever, sure there's a reason Marley's in a hospital and not doing time in rehab, but it has nothing to do with Santana. Nobody can say Santana's stupid, because she's a college girl now, but if anyone tried she could easily point out all the signs that hint at the Rose family not being as well-off as her own.

(Of course the lunch lady stitches Marley's clothes – Santana knows fashion like no other bitch alive.)

So what if this just happen to be daddy Lopez' resident hospital, and her father's best friend's ward, and Santana's dad has the power to pull about any favour he wants in here? And so what if Santana just so happens to come by around the time that Marley receives the least amount of visitors and is probably the most lonely?

It's really got nothing to fucking do with Santana, because she's currently too busy hating Christmas to spend any of her time pondering Marley's miracle hospital reception.

–

A week before Christmas Marley Rose shows up on her porch holding fucking flowers.

Flowers.

Santana's never received any flowers. Well, maybe once or twice, but those were all from high school jocks trying to get in with her and all that shit went straight to the trash. Except the chocolates, because her mother somehow always managed to intercept those. Brittany only bought Santana durable items because flowers, quote, "All die eventually, silly, there's no proper use for that."

So, Santana really doesn't know what to make of this child with her stupid grin and bright eyes standing there like she wasn't wilting away in Lima Memorial Hospital just a few minutes ago.

When Marley realizes Santana's just going to stand there and stare, she says, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"I didn't do anything," Santana repeats .

"Sure you didn't, Santana." Marley winks, but then turns serious, and then she's looking at Santana like she's Jesus. And, oh no, Santana can feel it, here comes the feelings. "I just wanted to say my mum and I, we... We really appreciate what you did and -"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, fruit loop." It's not Santana's best, but it's ridiculously difficult to insult Marley's face. "The flowers are mushy enough. It's not my fault my dad's got money, so. Let's leave it at that."

She's found that Marley is impervious to her infamous 'get the fuck away from me' quips that has most people scampering for the hills within seconds. Even now, when most sensitive souls would be offended by Santana's resistance and already be scowling, Marley's still bright as fucking sunflowers under a shining rainbow.

"Gotcha," Marley winks again, like they're sharing secrets at a sleepover, and what the fuck? "I'll see you around."

She turns away, and thank God she's not wished Santana happy holidays, because that would just-

"Merry Christmas, Santana."

Fuck it.

–

When Santana passes the trash can, she just keeps on walking, looking for a vase or some shit, if her mom even has one in the house. What do you even do with flowers? Just fucking stare at it? Santana doesn't get it. Fucking Marley.

–

Brittany calls her on December 22nd.

Santana thinks, yeah, fuck you, Mayans. And also fuck Sam, just for good measure. She cringes when the thought occurs that Brittany's probably already done that.

"Yeah?"

"Santana?"

"Brittany."

"Hi."

"Hi."

Santana thinks it can't possibly get more awkward than this.

"How are you?"

She was wrong.

She decides to cut through this bullshit, because really.

"What do you want, Brittany?"

She's felt this uncontrollable rage swell up inside of her ever since she got home and had to deal with the feelings of the break up she's caused. She has no-one to blame but herself, so all she's left with is being angry and lonely – so incredibly lonely – and Brittany is just breaking her heart by simply existing at the moment.

Brittany knows her so well, though. Just the tone of her voice.

"You heard." A pause. "About Sa... About the wedding"

"I can't talk to you right now, Britt. I just can't do this right now, please."

Santana hears something akin to a whimper coming from the other end of the line.

"I know it wasn't real," Brittany says. "You know I know that. I couldn't... It wouldn't be right."

"Nothing about it is right about this." Santana breathes. "About him... with you."

"I know," Brittany says. It sounds like she's crying softly at the other. "But you... you did this, San, and I know-"

Santana stops breathing. Brittany quickly backtracks.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"I need you to give me some space, Britt. Please."

"Santana, wait-"

Santana's phone needs to be replaced.

–

It really is the fucking season.

When her parents come home they berate her about the dent in the liquor cabinet first, and her drunken state second. Then they decide that her condition is probably the best way to drop the bomb that since Santana originally wasn't going to be home for Christmas, they've already bought tickets to spend the holiday in Vermont.

So have a fun fucking Christmas, Santana, home alone and heartbroken and without even one drop of her mom's strong homemade eggnog to soothe the soul.

–

Quinn calls her on December 23rd.

"Sorry for slapping the bejesus out of you."

"Quinn Fabray apologizing and saying the word 'Jesus' out of church? I think those Mayans got their dates wrong."

Santana knows this means they're good now.

Quinn chuckles. "Also, why can I only reach you on your landline? Why aren't you answering your cell?"

"I smashed it against a wall."

It should worry Santana that Quinn just bypasses this bit of information as if it's everyday life, but her care-o-meter works about as well as her cell does right now.

"So my mum ditched me for Christmas," Quinn says.

"Twinsies!" Santana sighs. "Parental neglect, though. This is probably no time to be facetious."

"Please, Santana. If we were in any way over-sensitive, our teenage years would have put us in the grave."

"True. What can I do you for, Fabby?"

"That's awful. Do refrain from calling me that when I come over to your place on Monday night."

"Monday? But that's Christmas Eve? Aren't... Oh. I see. Sad orphan night?"

"I was thinking more of a girls party."

"I'm flattered, Quinn, but-"

"I'm bringing Kitty."

"Absolutely not."

Quinn sighs, like Santana is missing something obvious, and Santana wonders if that little ice queen pulled some mind voodoo on Quinn or something.

"Kid adores me," Quinn says, "And as soon as I told her about my predicament she refused to spend the night away from me. Come on, San, I was thinking you could invite your protégée as well, and we could all hang out."

"Marley has a mother actually present for the holidays. And if you think I'm letting that manipulative bitch of yours anywhere near Marley, you're strongly mistaken."

"It's just Christmas Eve, she can still spend Christmas day with her family. The new glee kids will do anything we say, so, I'll tell Kitty to play nice. They're like the tiny version of me and Rachel. They'll work it out."

This is true, Santana thinks. And so very sad.

"Fine, I'll ask," Santana agrees. "But as soon as someone gets emotional over this stupid consumer driven holiday, I'm out. It's just a normal night, where we're forced to spend time together in order to escape every other mind-washed bitch on this planet, understand?"

"You got it."

"You better make this up to me, Q."

"I'm gracing you with my presence, need you any more?" Quinn is met with silence, so for good measure she adds, "I'll bring some vodka?"

"Vodka?" Santana smirks. "College looks good on you, Q."

Well, things aren't turning out too bad, then.

–

Santana ends up completely off her face and crying to Quinn about Brittany, in full view of all the newbies.

Somehow, they find it endearing. Santana finds that she wants to smash their faces in. Especially Kitty's.

Unique and Sugar are also here, to make things worse. (No wonder Santana overcompensated on the alcohol.) Unique, because she's Marley's best friend, and Sugar, because somehow she heard and thought it appropriate to invite herself along. Santana then called Tina, but by then girl Chang was already too engrossed in her own family gatherings.

Quinn, true to her word about the new girls worshipping them like gods, has spent the entire night living off 'small little favours', which basically means that by using her sugary-sweet tone of voice, she's managed to her them practically serving her and Santana both all night.

This is one of the best ideas Quinn has ever had.

It's almost two in the morning and Santana is already far past tired-sad. Quinn seems to sense this and jumps into action.

"Marley," Quinn says, "I think it's time for Santana to go sleep. Won't you please help her to her room?"

Marley jumps up at the beckoning, and Santana cry-laughs. It shouldn't be funny, but what the fuck ever, Santana and Quinn's combined drunkenness seemed to have let them step back into their Cheerio captain shoes.

She just bout manages up the stairs by hanging off Marley and when she gets to her room, promptly falls on the bed.

By the time she looks up, Marley's at her bedside placing a glass of water and some tablets on her dresser, and Santana starts.

"You alright there?" Marley smiles. Marley looks so happy to be here and help, so grateful to be invited, and not at all like she realizes what Quinn's been doing, and God, Santana feels like hell.

Fuck. Now she'll have to make this up to Marley. Until she does, she can try to remember how to be the new Santana she's become, even of only for the short remainder of the night.

"Hey Marls," Santana slurs. "C'mere."

Santana pats the bed, and Marley sits down next to her.

"You're awesome, Marley." Santana forces herself to sit up. "Thanks for th' help. You, cool."

Santana hugs her for a long moment, then remembers. She pulls back and looks Marley in the eye. Wow, blue.

"You ate, yes?"

She tries her best to glare at Marley, but her drunken state must make her look hilarious somehow, because as soon as Marley catches sight of her, she laughs.

"Yes, Santana," Marley says, slowly, like she's talking to a kid. But somehow not patronizing in the least, like Marley just wants Santana to keep track of the conversation. Santana doesn't think Marley can be anything but genuinely nice. "But thank you so much for asking."

Right, there she is. The Santana that actually cares about people.

Feeling much better about herself, Santana passes out.

–

Santana wakes to a blinding headache. When she gets to her living room, there are five girls are sprawled out across the floor. Damn, she really needs Puck here to make a good innuendo about that, just so she can hit him over the head and feel better about her own.

She only wakes up Quinn, so they can prepare breakfast for the rest as an apology for being bitches last night, whether the girls realized it or not. Being grown-up and having a conscience sucks major balls.

Great. Now she's thinking about major balls, and it is not helping her nausea _at all_.

The eggs are overcooked, purely a result of being groggy and in pain, but no one seems to mind. In fact, everyone is jolly through their hangovers, like Christmas day itself is a miracle cure or some shit. If anything, it just intensifies Santana's various aches.

As everyone leaves to spend the day with their families, Santana suffers through only one "Merry Christmas" – fucking Unique – and then she sets about cleaning her house.

And when she's done, it's only half past twelve, and there's still far too much of this day left.

Fucking hell.

–

After a very long phone call with Puck – "Quinn gave me this number; what's a landline?" – Santana gets roped into a New Years party at his house. Seriously, she's staying the fuck away from this town for every holiday in 2013 because with how this break is going, she's going to end up spending every single minute of her free time with these people.

(For a second, the thought doesn't bother her at all, but then she represses that shit as soon as it happens.)

As soon as she gets to his house, though, she wants to leave. How did Puck even think she can do this with Brittany and her lovely fucking ex-husband-still-boyfriend here?

But then she gets pulled into the kitchen by Tina and offered some hospitality (a lot of free alcohol) and quickly finds a solution for her troubles.

The night passes in a flash. Despite her insistence not to, Puck describes his newest list of MILFs in great detail, including their preferred sexual positions. Tina and Mike regale her with some hilarious chicken feet story, and Quinn joins her for body shots. (Seriously, that girl needed to go to uni much sooner in life, it's doing wonders for her charisma.) She even makes it through an entire conversation with Kitty without punching anything, which much mean she'll be getting some serious karma points this coming year.

About twenty minutes to midnight though, she's violently reminded about the very thing she's been trying to ignore all night. It's like the thought just sneaks up on her, and suddenly she realizes that Brittany and Sam are going to kiss at midnight, right there within a few feet from her.

Somehow, the very idea is horrifying.

She starts to hyperventilate, gunning for any exit but can't seem to find any in sight, and the whole room feels like it's caving in and she can't actually breath properly... until there's a hand at her elbow driving her to the front door, and then...

Air.

Santana breathes. And again. And again.

The hand is rubbing at the small of her back now, and the dust settles.

"You okay?"

Santana nods, then seems to remember where she is, and quickly stands up straight and shakes the hand of her back. Then looks up at a hurt face and fuck.

"Sorry," Santana says, "it's just..." She waves her hand about, like it's supposed to signify everything she feels in a single simple motion, but the main idea seems to get through.

"No, it's okay," Marley says, and there's that smile again. "Panic attack, huh?"

"So that's what that feels like?" Santana leans against the wall. "One more thing to cross off the bucket list, I guess."

Marley smiles again, but it's short-lived. The glance she throws at the door tells her Santana's panic was just the excuse she's been needing to leave all night as well. When Santana thinks back to the strange distance she's observed between Ryder, Jake and Marley, it's not that hard to guess why.

It's like Marley steals the thought right out of her head when she asks, "Want to get out of here?"

Santana truly smiles for what may be the first time tonight. "As much as I'd love to, I don't think you want me driving you around after all that body shots."

"I can drive."

Santana's eyebrows reach the heavens. "You can drive. Are you even old enough to drive?"

Marley laughs. "Come on, Santana, I'm not_ that_ young."

"I have a stick shift."

"That's fine." Marley frowns. "But I don't have a permit, yet."

Santana ponders that for a moment. She spent months on the road without a permit, and bar that one incident with the Mrs. Jones, everything turned out just super. That's seems legit, right?

"As your mentor and elder, that would be extremely irresponsible of me," Santana says, as she throws Marley her keys. "Let's do it."

–

Marley takes Santana to her 'special spot', which turns out to be a small hill that looks out over at least half of Lima.

It's all so very cliché and ordinary. It's all so very _Marley_.

It's freezing, so Santana gets out the blanket she keeps in her car to throw over them as they lie on the warm hood, waiting for fireworks. There's about five minutes left, on Santana's watch.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Marley asks.

"Just a momentary lapse in my relationship to gravity, nothing to worry about." Santana says, then adds a soft, "thanks."

Marley bites her lip, and Santana knows what's coming before it does. "Are you... Was it Brittany?"

Santana sighs. She likes this kid, but this is territory reserved for no one else bar her own reflection in the mirror. "Yeah," she plays it down, "but it's just... you know."

Marley nods in understanding. Santana takes the queue to change the subject at once.

"So are you going to tell me the deal with Starsky and Hutch, or are you choosing to drop vague hints into infinity until I beat your ass back to the hospital from frustration?"

Marley just laughs, but Santana just doesn't get what's so amusing. Marley shrugs, then says, "It's just... I don't know. There's nothing to tell, I guess."

"Those are two fine pieces of meat chasing you, young lady, you need to get on at least one of them."

Marley laughs again. "How would you know?" she asks, but then suddenly seems to think that she's being offensive for some reason, and amends, "I mean, sorry, not like that, I just-"

"Calm yourself, smalls. My lady loins might not work like yours, but my eyes still do." Santana decides to torture the poor girl, just because she can. "Did you not know I used to date Puck?"

Her eyes widen and Santana can see the confusion explode behind them. Santana bursts out laughing.

Marley splutters the start of many questions, but then just settles on, "But, I thought you're-"

"I am," Santana says. "But everyone is something, until they're not."

In the distance, the sky lights up with colours. It's a beautiful sight that speeds up Santana's heart and makes her feel like something's about to change.

"Happy new year, Marley," Santana says.

"Happy new year, Santana," Marley replies.


	2. Part 1: For the first time

So, Santana starts the new year with a blinding headache and a crick in her neck that she doesn't think will ever go away.

Splendid.

She also notices, when she sits up and looks around, that she has no fucking idea where she is. Even more fantastic, really.

After a few dazed moments, Santana hears the door creak open slowly, and this must be it. It's definitely an axe-murderer, she can just feel it.

But instead, Marley's little head appears behind the door and oh, right. New year's eve, panic attack, clichéd hill experience. (And then drowning what's left of her vodka stash on her backseat on the way home, most possibly before she could tell Marley where she lives.)

Upon seeing Santana's face – which Santana can only guess as being a very expressive 'What the fuck?' surrounded by hair sticking up in every direction – Marley bursts out laughing, and Santana's head just about implodes at the loud sound.

"Sorry, sorry," Marley whispers through her giggles. "Santana, I'm so sorry, but you look _ridiculous_."

Santana groans and this only seems to spur Marley on more, because now she's holding her stomach and doubling over from laughter.

All Santana can do is fall back on the bed, clutching her head in agony.

–

One shower, two aspirins and what feels like a million glasses of water later, Santana sits in Marley's kitchen, head clutched in her hands and trying to brush off her host.

"Santana," Marley says, and if she had any balls it would almost have sounded like a reprimand.

Santana pushes away the cereal Marley keeps thrusting at her – wanky – and groans. The most she's spoken this morning has been unintelligible sounds, but Marley's been a peach through it all, really.

"Dun' wanna," Santana mumbles. It feels an awful lot like she's being mothered right now.

If only Marley hadn't taken her keys hostage with the promise of strictly giving them back once Santana's eaten something. Apparently, it is now considered in bad grace to send a guest off without feeding them.

That would all be good and well if Santana wasn't feeling _so. fucking. nauseous._

"Do you want to sleep a bit more?" Marley asks. "I really don't want you driving when you're tired or dizzy from not eating."

God, Santana thinks. Talk about a role reversal.

Santana lifts an eyebrow at her and Marley seems to realize it too by the slight blush on her features, and she looks away embarrassed. Santana sighs. Time to be the example mentor, she guesses.

"Five bites for my keys, deal?"

Marley's smile is blinding. Santana feels pleased.

"Deal."

–

They had this tradition, the three of them.

During the first week of the new year, Quinn, Santana and Brittany would go to this insane annual sale at the downtown market for the most fantastic clothes at the most ludicrous prices imaginable. Much like everything else they do, the three of them fit seamlessly together to cheat their way out of countless more dollars than they're already saving.

Quinn and Santana would flirt with the older male sellers, eyeing them seductively while checking out clothes on the rack, then Brittany would seal the deal with some quirky quips that make the seller, just for a second, feel part of their inner circle. Of course, this leads to them dropping the overall price even more, and sometimes even throwing in another dress or two with a simple last minute wink from Quinn.

For the ladies, Brittany would pull out all the Tubbington stops, or just chat with them about anything and everything while Quinn and Santana play their best innocent cards while shopping in the background. Three sweet young girls with a clear eternal friendship bond – flaunt this in front of an elder lady who vividly remembers her own younger glory years, and the item's sold.

They're basically shopping for free. It's every girl's dearest dream, and sometimes the highlight of Santana's year.

But this year? Spending an entire day with Brittany will either make Santana kick a dent in her car, throw over some clothes racks in frustration or just bawl her eyes out for a week on end.

And there's no way they can do it without Brittany. Quinn and Santana on their own? Head bitches in charge greedily looking for cheap deals at a cheap market. No way in hell.

Santana says exactly that when Quinn calls her, and Quinn mulls this over for a second. Santana hears Quinn sigh over the line.

"Are you sure that-"

"Yes." Santana cuts her off. There's just no chance that Brittany will be invited along today. No. Chance.

"Well," Quinn muses, "we'll just have to replace her, won't we?"

She sounds unsure when she says it and Santana agrees because where could you find someone else with such a unique mind and an album full of pictures of an overweight cat?

Moreover, who else do they know that has an innocence that makes anyone's heart melt, and a naivety that makes strangers fall into –

Oh.

–

Marley is, simply put, a natural at this.

While she doesn't have a cat, nor the strange quips that effortlessly places attention on her like Brittany does, she does have a way with people and the innocence that fronts for Quinn and Santana, making them look like nothing less than angels.

Santana buys double everything, because Marley desperately needs a new wardrobe and Santana's only too happy too prevent this 'New Rachel' from becoming the fashion travesty that Berry was in high school.

(That's what Santana tells Marley, anyway, when Marley kindly tells her that she can't accept the clothes. She doesn't want Marley to feel like a charity case, but really, with the prices these things are going at, she's not even making a scratch on her monthly allowance so it's really not an issue.

But apparently this knowledge doesn't faze Marley in the slightest, and it all still means the fucking world to her and she looks at Santana with big eyes, like she can't really believe anyone would do this for her, and Santana fidgets because she doesn't quite know what to do with herself.

She settles for seeing where Quinn's disappeared to, but not before telling Marley to take anything and everything she sees that she likes.)

–

"Okay, Marley, we're going to play a game, yeah?" Quinn says. "A quick getting-to-know-you, what do you say?"

It's late, they're fucking tired, and they stopped by a diner on the way home to grab a last cup of coffee before calling it a day.

Both Quinn and Santana's trunks and back seats are filled with shopping bags and Santana's sure she's never felt more satisfied in her life. It's like she overdosed on happiness and honestly, she thinks that the only thing better than retail therapy is sex. Seriously. Some days, it can even be a tie.

Quinn and Santana are getting the down-low on what Finn's been trying – and by trying, Santana means _failing_ – to teach the glee club, what the new Cheerios are doing to their legacy and what the actual fucking deal is with Ryder and Jake, about which Marley is not even slightly forthcoming.

Santana knows what Quinn's about to do, and she sits back in her seat, grinning. This is going to be good.

"Sure," Marley says.

Gotcha.

"Classic quick interview – I'll prompt you some basic words and you say the first word that pops into your head, as fast as you can. If I give you and either/or option, you just say your favourite one instead. Get it?" Quinn asks.

"I think so?"

"Cool," Quinn takes a sip of her drink, "ready?"

"Ready."

"Ugg boots."

"Er... no?"

"Good. Finn or Mr Shue?"

"Finn."

"Gross," Santana interjects.

"He let you be my mentor, though," Marley says with a smile. "He's doing _something_ right."

Santana, for once, has nothing to say. Quinn clears her throat.

"Spice Girls."

"Awesome."

"Chocolate or caramel?"

"Caramel."

"Reality television."

"Sometimes."

"Ryder or Jake?"

"No."

Quinn and Santana's eyebrows both shoot to the sky at once, and Marley's face goes paper white.

"Uhm..." Marley says, but nothing follows.

Santana takes a sip of her drink to quell the anticipation building inside her. It's really none of their business, but just like her own, Santana can feel Quinn's curiosity burning like wildfire beside her.

Oh, how they still love a juicy piece of gossip.

"Well, Quinn says, "that was illuminating."

Only Quinn can make it seem like a question.

Marley fidgets, looks at Quinn and Santana who looks back at her expectantly, then looks away again. When she speaks, it's to the table.

"I'm confused. I... don't know how I feel about them, I think."

A beat.

"Maybe..." Marley sighs, "maybe I don't really want either, but they keep making me feel like I still need to choose. I don't know. I'm just... confused."

"Well, that takes us back to step one," Santana says.

"Santana," Quinn scolds.

Marley waves her hand. "It doesn't matter, it's really nothing." She fakes a smile. "You guys don't need to worry about my insignificant high school drama."

Santana looks at Quinn, then at Marley, suddenly remembering the very significance of conversations by a locker, of pouring her heart out through song, of walking through halls surrounded by gossip that can at any moment travel all the way to your family and rip its ties apart.

"It _is_ a big deal, Marley," she says gently. "We've been there, we know how it is."

"You'll figure it out," Quinn says softly, but Marley just gives a weak smile in response.

–

Santana drops Marley off at her place, helping to lug some bags to her doorstep and telling her that she was, basically, the bomb back at the market. Marley just smiles bashfully, looks at her new clothes and then hugs Santana, like that's something they do now. Santana just stands frozen for a second, then awkwardly pats Marley's back.

But then Marley whispers a heartfelt, "Thank you" in her ear, and when Santana looks at the bags around them, she gets it. She hugs back, an "Anytime" leaving her lips without struggle.

Seriously, she thinks as she's walking back to her car, knowing Marley is really shaping up to be a good thing for her karma.

–

Nothing is worse than a 'back-to-school' party, but apparently it's happening, and everyone's going, and Santana gets dragged along without her consent.

(She totally consented, because free alcohol, hello, but of course nobody will hear her admit that.)

There's a lot of McKinley kids here, and she has no idea whose house this is. She would have felt like a proper loser, hanging around her old high school and its parties if it weren't for the abundance of glee kids and graduates also attending.

Oddly, she feels like part of a group – even more so than when she was in high school, and it was really just her and Brittany versus the world.

Speaking of, she spotted Brittany earlier and made it very clear through eye contact that if she or her Fish Mouth came anywhere near Santana tonight, shit would not turn out great.

In the meantime she's mingled and caught up and done all her social duties. Now, she's on a mission to get her drink on, but has so far been unsuccessful because she somehow lost sight of Quinn, who promised to find Puck to mix them his one of his special – and strong – concoctions.

Walking to the kitchen, Santana passes the hallway and some shuffling at the end of it catches her eye. She hopes to God she's not just accidentally spotted someone fucking at the end of the hall, but honestly, who is so trashy that they can't even find a room? Upon closer look, something doesn't look kosher, and Santana steps closer.

It's not kosher, not at all.

It's _Marley_. It's Marley, and Ryder, whose currently pressing Marley up against a wall, doing nothing except staring at her intimidatingly, keeping her from getting away even though she's clearly desperate to do so.

Fuck no, Santana thinks. Fifty million shades of _no_.

"Is there a problem here?" Santana doesn't know how she's managing to keep her voice level, but thank God she's keeping her cool right now.

The sight is front of her is infuriating.

Marley and Ryder starts, but upon seeing nothing more than a girl, Ryder answers, "No" then turns back to Marley.

Marley catches Santana's eye, and Santana can see she's scared shitless.

"Yeah, Dancing Queen, I think it's time for you to leave now," Santana tells Ryder.

Ryder looks back at Santana, and Santana can smell the alcohol in his breath from where she's standing. This is not going to end well.

(For him.)

When he focuses on her face, that old innate respect for the graduates kicks in when he realizes who she is, but he's still not letting up. "Santana, can you give us a minute, please? We're talking."

The fuse is lit.

"I said," Santana steps forward, "you need to disappear."

He doesn't. Santana turns to Marley instead.

"Come with me, Marley."

Marley shifts to do just that, but the arm Ryder was using to steady himself against the wall reaches out and tugs at Marley's bicep, really fucking hard, and Santana can see her wince from here. That's it, really.

Ryder receives a swift kick to the balls and crumples to the ground, and Santana doesn't spare him a single word as she pulls Marley away and out of the house.

–

Marley doesn't resist when Santana practically carries her down the road. Santana's been to her fair share of house parties to knows that shit like that completely spoils the mood, anyway, and predictably Marley gets into Santana's car without a word. It's only when Santana gets into the drivers seat that she realizes the smell of alcohol wasn't just wafting off Ryder.

For a second, she wonders if she acted out of place. She ignores the thought.

They drive in silence, only speaking when Santana asks Marley if she's okay to go home in this state. Apparently she is.

When Santana pulls into her driveway, they sit there for a few minutes. Marley tugs at the ends of her skirt as she stares into nothing, and Santana wonders how much she's had to drink.

(Or if both her and Ryder took something more, because she's pretty sure Ryder is a good guy, when not heavily intoxicated.)

"You okay?" Santana whispers.

Marley nods.

"Are you... Did he... I mean, are you hurt? Or something?"

"No," Marley says. Her voice is hoarse, and Santana wonders if there's water somewhere in the car. "It was jus'... Bit scared, 's all."

Santana sighs, maybe out of relief. "Sorry I made you leave, I kinda panicked."

Santana wonders if Marley is even really hearing what she's saying. She looks so out of it. Or maybe she just looks sad. Santana realizes she doesn't really know Marley well enough to tell the difference.

"'S okay," Marley slurs. "Didn't wanna be there anymore."

"Alcohol, hormones, love," Santana says, trying to diffuse the situation, "it's never a good mix."

But Marley doesn't smile at Santana's stupid jokes like she always does. She just shakes her head fiercely.

"I don't love him," she says, in such a small voice that Santana barely hears her.

Santana doesn't know what to say, so she just unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door. "Let me help you inside."

"'Kay," Marley says sadly.

Santana opens the door for her and gets Marley out of her seatbelt, too, then walks them both to the front door, carrying Marley by holding her waist.

"Where are your keys?" Santana asks.

Marley lifts up her hand and Santana takes them off her, unlocking the door for her before handing back her keys.

"You gonna be all right now, pocket-size?"

Santana swears she can see a hint of a smile on Marley's face, and thank God. "'M taller 'n you," Marley says. "'N I'm good, thanks."

Santana lets go of Marley, pushing her in the general direction of her house, making sure Marley can stand on her own first. She can.

"Thank you," Marley says. "For the help."

Santana smiles, puts her hand on Marley's shoulder to give it a squeeze. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"N' for ride," Marley adds, but she still looks like she's forgetting something.

"No problem," Santana says, and Marley smiles like she remembers.

And then suddenly Marley leans forward and kisses Santana, right on the mouth, putting her hand on Santana's cheek and closing her mouth over Santana's bottom lip, just like that. Santana just stands there, like a fucking nerd, waiting for... Well, she doesn't really fucking know what.

Then Marley pulls back, smiles at Santana like they just fucking high-fived, and backs into the house.

She whispers, "Night, S'ntana" then closes the door gently, leaving Santana standing on the porch, dumbfounded.

Santana doesn't move for a good minute, staring at the space where Marley just disappeared, then shakes her head and steps back, almost tripping over her own feet on the way to the car.

So.

That was fucking weird.

–

Despite being tired as a motherfucker, Santana doesn't sleep a wink that night.

Instead, she makes a list of possibilities that could have resulted in the two seconds that left her flabbergasted earlier that evening.

a) Santana is hot as fuck (duh) and Marley just felt _exceptionally_ grateful to her after being treated like shit by one of her knights in shining armour. This gratefulness led to her kissing Santana, because obviously, that's the going currency for rewarding kind-natured lesbians these days. (Though Santana knows Marley isn't that narrow-minded or malicious, so maybe not this one.)

b) For a second, Marley squinted and thought her dark complexion somehow resembles Jake, but then remembered who Santana was moments after when Marley greeted her by name.

c) Santana was actually the one that got something slipped in her drink, and imagined the whole thing, because Marley sure as fuck didn't make a big deal out of it afterwards.

And d) is... Well, Santana can't think of anything else, and when her mother knocks on her door, she realizes the sun is out and she needs to get up already.

–

Unfortunately for Santana, the back-to-school party theme applies to her too, as she needs to get to Louisville by the evening.

After her wake-up cup of coffee, she sends Puck a very explicit text that promises some hefty repercussions should he ever distribute narcotics amongst minors without their knowledge again – because really, this is a very old trick that has Puck written all over it – and then there's about four hours left until Santana has to make that long trek back to her dorm that afternoon. She reckons Marley doesn't have a car and so the responsibility lies with Santana to answer her many questions about last night before she departs.

(She'll never be able to quell her curiosity either way, she tells herself as she walks to her driveway, and there's no way she'll be able to concentrate on her already tedious coursework with this great burning 'why' infecting her subconscious.)

Even so, Santana sits outside Marley's house for at least ten minutes wondering why she's here in the first place and what exactly she plans to do once she walks up to that godforsaken porch. That is, until she realizes that she must look like an utter twat sitting out here and she'd be dead before being caught lurking outside some random sophomore's house.

She's Santana Fucking Lopez, goddammit, and she doesn't balk from no insignificant, drugged-up little kiss. She completely disregards the fact that she lost a whole night of sleep and came all the way to Marley's house as a result of said kiss, but what the fuck ever, she thinks as she bangs her fist against the door, much more forceful than she should be this early on a Sunday morning.

Marley's face appears behind a crack in the door, squinting at the harsh outside light and focusing in on Santana.

She frowns and asks, "Santana?" and fully opens the door, gesturing for Santana to come inside.

Santana doesn't, though, defaulting to glaring at Marley because she doesn't know what else to do.

"Is everything okay?" Marley continues. She may be referring to the way Santana's looking at her, or rather to the way she just tried to break down the front door, judging by the sudden ache Santana feels on her knuckles.

"Er, yeah," Santana says. She wanted to say, _So you kissed me last night and I was kinda wondering why that is_, but thought it was a bit intense for a conversation opener.

Marley just squints again, obviously still half delirious and in pain when she mumbles, "Wanna come in? Heavy hangover, sun's not good."

The disjointed way Marley speaks just reminds Santana of the previous night, and for some incredulous reason a shiver runs up her spine. Fuck that, she thinks, because once again, she's Santana Fucking Lopez. Goddammit.

"No," Santana blurts, and Marley looks taken aback. "I mean, er, I just wanted to come see if you were okay. Because of... you know. Er, last night."

"Oh," Marley says, and nothing in her face tells Santana whether brining this up was a good idea or not. "'Course, no, I'm fine, yeah. Sorry about him."

Santana shakes her head, because she should not be apologizing for that dirtbag, but Marley doesn't let her say that.

"You shouldn't have had to deal with that," Marley continues, "he's not normally... I don't know, everyone was a bit weird." Marley shakes her head. "Anyway, thanks for... I mean, it was you who drove me home, right? After you kicked him? I wasn't dreaming that last part up?"

Right. Of course. Because Marley doesn't even fucking remember anything. Thanks, Puck. Well, this has been a colossal fucking waste of her time. Santana just slaps on a smile, and gets over it.

"Nope, not dreaming," Santana says. "So, now I know you're fine, and I gotta get back to uni today, so..."

"Okay," Marley says. She steps forward. "See you around?"

"Sure," Santana says. She smiles again, and she thinks this one might be a little more real.

She can see Marley wanting to step forward to hug her and quickly hops backwards off the porch, waving to cover up the action.

_Great fucking going, Santana_. Freaking out over nothing, like the fucking baby gay that she apparently still is. She thinks back to the old days where jocks would fuck her and she'd forget their faces the very next day. Now one fucking girl that isn't Brittany kisses her, and she's all in a tiffy over nothing. Pathetic.

So, she gets back in her car and sets off, forgetting all about this complete stupidity that has monopolized most of her weekend.

She's Santana Fucking Lopez.

Goddammit.

–

Louisville is becoming more awful by the minute.

In more coherent moments – when she's not buried under coursework or dying in cheerleading practice – she can barely fathom hear reasoning behind trading one cheer costume for another; one small insignificant town for another.

She's bored, she's restless, she's exhausted. She's _stuck_.

Really, it all boils down to one question.

What the fuck is she still doing here?

–

So this is her plan so far: she's got fuck all.

Her parents have allowed her to drop out, and opened up their home to her to stay in in the meantime, and now that she's free of a university she hated being in, she feels a great pressure is off her back.

(She ignores the panic arising in its place concerning what she's going to do about her future, but soothes herself with the knowledge that she's got time.)

She's not going to rush into anything, not like she did with Louisville.

That's why she's not going to New York. At least, not yet.

She doesn't know what she wants. And until she does, she's not darting off to a new place and getting caught up in it, losing sight of what she went there for – which is what she needs to be figuring out right now.

So she's hanging around her home town, waiting for a few months and getting her head on straight. And when the new school year starts – the deadline she's given herself – she'll be out.

(She's not telling anyone about it, either. She's come to learn what outside influences do when they meddle in her plans, and she's tired of letting everyone in on what's going on in her life. She wants to do this, make up her mind, all on her own.)

In the meantime, she decides that she'll cook for her parents tonight, because thanks are due. Instead of driving, she walks to the store, because today is one of those that has her feeling as if she's suddenly got all the time in the fucking world.

As the universe would have it, she finds none other than Marley Rose wandering by the fluid section, seemingly indecisive about which type of water she should buy. Santana creeps up behind her, because how can she resist?

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Marley jumps and throws a hand over her heart. She stares up at Santana as she catches her breath and Santana can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on her face. Marley joins in soon after, then returns Santana's smirk.

"Shouldn't _you_?"

"Fair enough," Santana relents.

Marley still looks panicked at the idea of being caught and some part of Santana thinks that she seems sad. Santana sighs.

"Come on, then," Santana says, then pays for her food and leads Marley back to her house.

–

Upon request, Santana regales Marley with the tale of her dropout on the walk back to her house. There, Santana makes Marley sit at the kitchen counter while she packs away the groceries.

She catches Marley looking at the vase in the corner, the one still holding the now dead flowers Marley got her before Christmas. For some reason, Santana hasn't had the heart to throw them out yet. Marley smiles at the sight, and Santana looks away.

"Want some lunch?" Santana asks, digging through the fridge to see what she's having this afternoon.

"No thanks," Marley says. "Lunch period was early today. It always is on Tuesdays, because my geography class was switched with calculus." Marley chuckles. "You know how it is."

"Yeah," Santana answers halfheartedly.

She notes how purposefully detailed that last answer is, and thinks about how she found Marley traipsing around, struggling while shopping for fucking water, and warning bells go off in her head.

But no, Santana thinks, Marley is getting better. Right? Santana is just being paranoid. Just like over that godforsaken kiss, which in the end meant absolutely nothing.

"Speak to Ryder lately?" Santana asks, desperate to change topics.

"He apologized as soon as he saw me." Marley says, nodding. "Said he wasn't feeling like himself, which, yeah. None of us did, I guess."

Santana just nods, because she doesn't want to say too much and get Puck in trouble. They spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging small talk while Santana prepares dinner around the kitchen. Santana learns the unfortunate reasons behind Marley's move to McKinley, and that her dream is being a recording artist. Marley hears about the glee club's whole history from the moment Santana joined it – because what chance did they have before that, let's be real – with a detailed recounting of one iconic sectionals performance that featured a particularly flawless rendition of _Valerie_.

Santana finds Marley ridiculously easy to talk to and feels at ease for the first time since she's been back in Lima. She doesn't even realize how much time has passed until she hears a car in the driveway, then looks up to find that it's already five o' clock.

Marley declines Santana's invitation to dinner – which is completely normal, Santana tells herself, as its late and Marley needs to go home – and Santana drives her to her house.

"Need me to come in and help out with a cover story, Miss Bunky McSkipster?" Santana asks when they stop at casa de Rose.

Marley laughs. "Nah, I'll be okay."

Santana nods. "So, I have a deal for you."

"You always do," Marley says. Santana glares, and Marley simply snickers at the sight.

"I won't tell anyone about your little day off," Santana says, "if you promise not to tell anyone that I'm back for good."

Marley looks like she wants to question this, but Santana knows she won't. As predicted, Marley just nods and then sticks out her hand. Santana stares at it.

"Deal," Marley says, then wiggles her fingers, and oh. Santana reaches out and shakes it. Girl's _odd_, sometimes.

Marley gets out of the car and calls to Santana over her shoulder. "See you around, Santana."

Santana just smiles, throwing back "Deal," which makes Marley laugh as she reaches her front door.

When Marley's safely inside the house, Santana drives home.

Odd.

–

Thank God for Judy's Jesus booze cruises. During the last few years in high school, Quinn's mansion had played host to many a house party and Santana's happy that it hasn't gone out of fashion after they all left school.

She's also glad that, like in high school, it's mostly just a bunch of glee kids going crazy together, and apparently Mercedes is coming too, which Santana is heavily excited for – but of course, no one will ever be privy to that fact. Quinn has also had the foresight not to invite Santana's ex and her accompanying box of sardines, which just ups Santana's happiness level to the roof, really.

When Quinn had called her telling her to make sure she's back in Lima this weekend, Santana had awkwardly promised that she would. She feels bad for lying, but again, for once would like to figure shit out without everybody getting in her business, not even Quinn. She loves these weekends, because Quinn's house is close enough that she can walk over and get mental without worrying about driving or getting home or any of that shit, she can just let go.

So, all in all, Santana plans on having a _banging_ weekend.

For a bunch of misfits, the glee club is filled with people that can party really fucking hard, and walking into the house, Santana can already tell it's going to be one of _those_ nights. She's a bit late so everyone's buzzed already, and so she skips all the small talk in favour of heading straight to Judy's liquor cabinet, so she can get on the right level before drunkenly catch up with everyone.

She finds Ryder mixing something there, and even though she knows Puck's partly to blame for his actions the other night, she's pretty sure she still has the right to glare at him so fiercely that he abandons his drink and scuttles away as soon as she approaches.

Well. That will never get old. That head bitch in charge feeling? It really is nothing short of _exhilarating_.

"You don't have to be so hard on him, you know," a voice comes from behind her. Santana starts, and a giggle follows. "That's karma for the other day."

Marley slides in next to her and Santana smiles in greeting.

"I just don't like that guy," Santana shrugs.

Marley shakes her head. "Puck told me what happened. Apparently, _someone_ told him off about it, and he apologized. He also mentioned something about both his pinkie toe and his behind, together, which I don't really understand, but he looked really scared the whole time he was telling me how sorry he is, so."

Santana bites her lip to keep from smiling. "Yeah, well. Ryder was still acting like a dickwad." Not wanting to bring up any more memories of that night, she points to the cabinet and asks, "Can I make you something?"

Marley shakes her head again and lifts up her hands, which Santana now sees is clutching at a cup.

"Coffee?" Santana asks. "You shitting me?"

Marley grins. "You can't really blame me for being a bit put off by drinking after last time."

"Fair," Santana replies. She pours a generous amount of vodka into her own mixture. "I, however, am definitely getting back on the horse."

Santana smirks at Marley, who just grins at her from behind her coffee cup.

"Santana!" a voice booms next to her, and she turns around to find –

"Cedes!"

In a flash, Mercedes is embracing her and Santana smiles into her shoulder. God, she's become such a sap. (But, she comforts herself, if no one can see her smiling, it never happened. Truth.)

"Oh, sorry," Mercedes says when she pulls away, spotting Marley leaning against the cabinet. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"Not at all," Marley says, moving away. "I'll catch you later?" she asks as she steadily exits the room, keeping her eyes on Santana.

"Deal," Santana jokes, watching Marley leave.

"Girl," Mercedes says from behind her, and Santana turns back to focus on her. "See, _that_ –" she points to Marley, "is what I need, too. A hot new piece to get back at our exes for _marrying_ each other. I have still not been able to process that amount of cray. Fuckin' marriage."

"Okay, hold up." Santana raises her hand, then takes a large sip of her drink before replying, because God knows she needs it. "Firstly, take it from me that the best way to deal with the latter is to remind yourself that you are a fierce, promising back-up singer living in one of the greatest cities in this country, so don't waste your time lamenting the loss of one simple trout. There really has never been a situation where the 'many fishes in the sea' metaphor has been so strikingly appropriate. And secondly, that is not my 'new piece', that's the 'New Rachel', so are you out of your mind?"

Mercedes raises an eyebrow and looks back at the door through which Marley just disappeared. "You sure about that?"

Santana just rolls her eyes and pulls Mercedes over to the closest couch, wanting to interrogate her about every little detail in her brand new life.

–

It's two in the morning when the pizzaman arrives.

Santana can only imagine what they all look like right now, fucked out of their minds, dangling off different pieces of furniture during a very uncoordinated but serious game of pirates on lava – a modified version of lava where they all need to conquer each other's 'boats'. Mike was allowed a reprieve for touching the floor to get to the door, and uncharacteristically bursts out laughing at the expression on the pizzaman's face.

Then Mike throws some money at the poor man – though, Santana put in a hefty tip, so poor is probably the wrong choice of words – and then shuts the door in his face. This sends the rest of them screaming of laughter, falling off the personal little life rafts and clutching at their stomachs as they're rolling on the floor.

It's moments like these – when she's laughing at fuck all with her friends and the music's fucking loud and alcohol is pumping in her veins and there's pizza – that she feels like nothing in the entire fucking universe could possibly be amiss.

But it's a bubble that can easily be broken, she's found in her time on this planet, especially with all the shitty cards her teenage years have dealt her in the game. And so a crack appears a while after the pizza is finished and a very enlightening game of 'Never Have I Ever' has passed.

She's gone upstairs to fetch some cards in Quinn's room – they're gonna play poker for some real cash, so she's going to get super rich off some drunkards tonight, too – when she passes the bathroom by the guest bedroom.

At first, the sound makes her chuckle, because she absolutely _loves_ this new Quinn who lets go so much that she needs to get rid of some of the alcohol in her system before the night is even done. But Quinn was just downstairs giving Santana instructions for retrieving the cards, and unless she's somehow morphed in Flash lately, there's no way she could have gotten upstairs before Santana. Santana makes a mental count of everyone she just saw downstairs, and that leaves...

Santana starts, because if... There's only one kid who wasn't drinking tonight, which means that it's not alcohol induced, and pizza and two-am just really doesn't help when...

The retching has now stopped and Santana can only hear coughing sounds as she stands, frozen, by the door. She prays to whatever's up there that her mental count was faulty, but when she calls out a soft and tentative, "Marley?" through the door, the coughing stops abruptly, and shit.

Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

Then Santana hears a sob follow and tugs on the doorknob, hoping to everything in the cosmos that the door's unlocked.

It is.

Marley is on the floor next to the toilet, sitting with her head in her hands, and Santana's heart breaks.

She closes the door behind her, because she can only imagine how ashamed and embarrassed Marley must be feeling right now.

(It's not really imagining at all, thinking back to that day Brittany came to her home unannounced and found her in much the same way, hugging her tight and whispering that she's beautiful, she's loved, and that Brittany wouldn't want her any other way, and in that moment Santana knew that she would never ever do this again.)

But that was just after they had started dating and everything had fallen into place after years of crippling vulnerability and self-doubt, and Santana had never before felt so _content_. And Santana doesn't know what Marley needs right now, unlike Brittany, who had been with Santana since birth. So Santana just approaches Marley with caution and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Marley melts a little at the touch and Santana reacts immediately, sinking down next to Marley and throwing an arm around her, pulling her close and running a hand up and down her arm as she cries. Some part of Santana honestly thought that Marley was winning the fight, but the rest of her? She's pretty fucking sure there was at least a little suspicion.

When Marley's silent crying stops, she just sits there, shaking in Santana's arms. After a few moments of silence, Marley shifts and clutches at Santana in turn, and Santana just sits there. If that's what Marley needs, so be it.

There's a knock on the door, followed by Quinn's voice, shouting at Santana about the cards. Marley's grip on Santana tightens, and she jumps into full Lima Heights protection mode.

"Fuck off, captain, give me a minute," Santana shouts back. "Go get the damn cards yourself, Fabby."

"Ugh, worst nickname _ever_," Quinn's voice says, before her footsteps disappear completely. Santana's never been happier about their fucked up dynamic than at this very moment.

When everything is silent again, Santana just returns to holding Marley, and waits.

There's nothing but some faint whimpering for a few seconds, but then a hoarse voice speaks up and it sounds so different from Marley's normal voice that it takes Santana a few seconds to realize who is talking to her.

"Do you and Quinn even really like each other?" Marley asks.

The question is so wholly inappropriate for the moment that Santana can't help but laugh, but she doesn't let up on holding Marley for a second, thinking that maybe, just maybe, things might be okay.

So long as she just stays right here.

–

After leaving the bathroom, Santana had taken Marley downstairs and, despite objections from Quinn and everyone else, made her way back home. And of course, no one had any questions about the very sober and ever helpful Marley walking with her. Then, one large glass of water and a disastrous trip up the stairs later, Santana made Marley shimmy under the covers and passed out seconds later.

Now, Santana stares at the ceiling with Marley sleeping soundly next to her, curled against her side, thinking of a plan. When she woke this morning, her head felt like it was about to burst open, but as soon as she felt Marley's presence next to her, her pain instantly gave way to be replaced with worry instead.

(Maybe this caring about people thing has its advantages, after all.)

By the time Marley wakes up, Santana has decided on her route of action: tough love. Marley sits up and rubs at her eyes, then furrows her brow upon seeing her surroundings before zeroing in on Santana, who stands at the edge of the bed. Santana gives her a small smile, but Marley just grimaces in return.

Santana sighs and sits on the bed next to Marley, handing the plate in her hand over with a soft, "Here."

Marley looks down at her lap, still unwilling to meet Santana's eyes. "San–" Marley starts, but nothing follows.

"Lesson one," Santana cuts her off anyway. She points to the single piece of toast in Marley's plate. "One slice of wholewheat covered with nothing but peanut butter as soon as you wake up." Marley looks at her questioningly. "It starts up your metabolism and gives you something to coat your stomach and burn off later when you're doing your morning exercises."

Santana stands up and heads to the chair in the corner, where she took out some clothes for Marley earlier. "These should fit you," she says, holding up some sneakers, shorts and a tank, "try them on and see what you find to be the most comfortable."

"What–" Marley starts again, but Santana interrupts.

"You and I? We're going jogging," Santana says. "Every morning before school, I'll be at your house an hour early and we'll run."

Santana walks back over to Marley and sits down.

"Marley." She looks Marley in the eyes, willing her to understand. "I don't know what it is. I'm not going to ask you to tell me, because it's none of my business. But whatever it is, half of it is your body, right?" Marley nods. "I can personally attest to the fact that no amount of purging and starving yourself can _ever_ feel as good as being fit, as working for your body instead..." Santana puts a hand on Marley's arm. "As being _healthy_. Do you understand?"

Marley nods silently, and looks back at her toast. She takes a small bite, and Santana smiles, walking back to the dresser.

"Lesson two: Beyoncé." Santana digs her old iPod shuffle out of her drawer and throws it on the bed, then takes out her new Nano and straps it to her arm. "Or anything with a sexy ass beat, really. Takes your mind off the pain, at first. And there will be a _lot_ of pain."

Marley just nods, continues chewing and Santana is glad for her lack of resistance, for how completely willing Marley it to let Santana help, if only in some small way. She wonders if this is just what Marley needed all this time – no doctors, no diets, no knights in shining armour. Just an honest to God _friend_.

When Marley is done eating, Santana points to the clothes on the chair. "When you're done, meet me downstairs for the lessons three and four – stretching and core warm ups."

"Santana?" she hears Marley's faint voice calling when she's already halfway down the hallway. She sticks her head back in her room, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Thank you," Marley says.

Santana smirks. "Get dressed, Marley Rose. Aunty Snix is about to whip you into shape."

–

Marley surprises Santana by going for a while ten minutes without needing to stop. When she does, she's bent over and as Santana takes out her headphones, she hears Marley struggling for a breath and for a second believes Marley's transformed into Darth Vader.

"Lesson five," Santana says, patting Marley's back, "breath control."

They walk the rest of the way.

–

Three weeks in, Marley can make it all the way to the Lima Bean. And so every morning, they've planned their route so they can run to the coffee shop, grab a skinny latte and sip at their drinks on the walk back.

(Santana would drive back to and fro Marley's house to do this every day, but she doesn't mind when she knows that Marley doesn't have to deal with this on her own.)

In the afternoon, Santana would fuck around with her laptop trying her hand at songwriting and looking at some schools in New York and try to figure out just what she loves doing in her spare time the most, and how she can make a living out of it. And then, in the last week, she's been going over to Marley's in the evening as well, to do some yoga and aerobics. They've been doing a variety of exercises to determine what Marley likes and dislikes, and so Santana's been setting up the perfect exercise programme to fit Marley's taste.

She swears to God if she wasn't so dead set on performing for a living, Jillian Fucking Michaels would have to pack up her shit and leave because Santana Fucking Lopez would have been the best damn trainer in the business.

All in all, everything seems to be going smoothly for Santana lately, until the fourth week arrives.

So, Santana's been a bit – uncomfortable isn't really the right word, but she guesses it's somewhere between that hesitant – around Marley. And fine, yes, it's a little about the kiss, but whatever, it doesn't really matter anymore and Santana's forgotten about it anyway, so.

She really has.

It's just that, she hasn't been so acutely aware of being incredibly gay since her brutal coming out last year, when felt as if she had a sticker on her forehead that read 'lesbian', which was the first and only thing everybody saw when they looked at her.

Anyway.

Marley is her friend, she tells herself, when she opens her closet to find that the only thing she has left to wear this week is her cheerio training sports bra. It's not her fault, really, and surely no one can blame her for wanting to put off laundry for as long as she can, these days.

It shouldn't feel weird, having to be half-naked in front of Marley while doing yoga, and she just can not figure out why it does. Fuck, she's been appearing in super skimpy outfits in public since age fourteen, so she really shouldn't be bothered.

Gay girls can be half-naked in front of their straight friends, right? It shouldn't be strange, correct? Not even if their lips have touched, surely.

Fucking hell. Santana is just so new to this, and can't understand why she ever thought it would be a good idea to make new friends.

(She remembers, during their senior year West Wide Story rehearsals, how Tina had – after many sessions of Santana tentatively reaching out for her waist but never really grabbing it, and later foregoing the move completely and just settling for awkwardly twirling around her – grabbed Santana's arm and almost threw her off balance with her desperate attempt at getting Santana to feel comfortable touching her like that – not wanky. They had laughed for long minutes, and just like that, the ice was broken, and rehearsals were even better from that moment on. She loves her friends, really, especially in moments like these where they show her that they love her back, every single part of her.)

Too late now, anyway, fuck it, because Marley's opening the door and letting her in, albeit with a frown at Santana's sweatshirt when it's pretty hot outside. She can't flaunt her goods out in the street like that, she's pretty sure Marley's geriatric neighbour doesn't have the heart to stand it.

And fifteen minutes into the video, that's when disaster strikes.

The Rose living room is adjacent to the their kitchen, where a window permanently bathed in shadow offers Santana a perfect reflection of her pose whenever they're trying out some new moves. It's become Santana's visual reference of her accuracy – not that she ever gets it wrong, but, anyway.

Right now she's bent over slightly with her hands stretched behind her back, and while wearing only her sports bra, she can only think that this position is really doing wonders highlighting her totally sextastic set of abs. And yeah, she's put a whole fucking lot of man-hours into those bitches, so screw anyone who thinks she's wrong for admiring them herself.

When she lifts her gaze just a bit, though, she realizes that hers isn't the only appreciative stare trained on her middle.

As a reflex, Santana looks up at the real, non-reflected Marley, but by the time Santana's facing her, Marley has turned back to face the television, ears red as beet.

Now, Santana knows she's got a rockin' bod. Everyone else knows it, too, and her abs are famous all around, which is just the normal order of things. Hell, even Miss Mercedes 'Straight-As-A-Pillar' Jones has admitted that these abs would be the only thing that could ever pull her over to the fairer sex.

So, of course Marley would be staring. It's natural.

What makes it unnatural, though, is the red now spreading down to Marley's neck, and how the image brings on a sudden memory of Marley's lips on hers, and shit. That _can't_ be a regular friend's reaction, right?

God, Santana hates that she's absolutely awful at this.

The best route right now: concentrate on the yoga and ignore what she just saw. Sound plan. Surely.

–

Despite turning into one of the most confusing and emotional draining episodes of her entire life later on, being with Brittany had been so simple.

They'd been in each other's lives forever before noticing something different between them – but they had known each other so well by then that their slow physical progression from friends to lovers had been relatively seamless, before the gruelling process of Santana's coming out began.

As a result of that past ease, it's impossible to figure out just what the fuck it is that's been going on with Marley and her lately.

At times, Santana's sure Marley is steadily becoming one of her closest friends, strictly friends. At others, Marley's actions varies between oddly dubious and downright confusing – this hug is purely platonic, sure, that touch of the hand nothing but innocent, but is staring at sweating abs so, too? Drunkenly making a pass and conveniently forgetting later on?

See Santana's dilemma?

So there's only one solution. It's time for a 'totally straight just friends' versus 'what the fuck' tally.

–

Marley has learned to jog and talk at the same time without going into cardiac arrest, which is awesome. Santana is legitimately pleased at her progress, because sometimes, talking and listening to Marley is so easy and carefree, that a whole mile would pass without her realizing it, making exercising even more of a breeze.

During one of their outings, Santana somehow gets talking about her super loud family and her endless supply of cousins and the crazy antics they get up to together. She even ends up letting Marley in on the situation with her abuela when Marley asks about her grandparents, which is something that no one but Brittany was privy to before. But really, with Marley staring at her with those eyes, open and kind and sincere, Santana found it rather easy to be so open.

Marley takes it all in stride, coming to a halt and waiting for Santana to slow down too. She puts a hand on Santana's shoulder, luckily not spewing any shitty "I'm sorry" nonsense, which Santana is incredibly thankful for.

"You're very strong, Santana," Marley says instead, smiling. "She's the one missing out on a lot of wonderful things.

And then she's off, jogging on and telling Santana about her own hilarious grandparents, who has been married for over fifty years, despite being very vocal about hating each other's guts after years of daring each other to file for a divorce.

Sometimes, Marley just makes everything feel lighter.

Totally straight just friends: 1.

–

Yes, Marley has gotten very adept at concentrating on other things while running. Which is probably why she accidentally lets her guard down on Thursday morning, suitably distracted when Santana, who is running in front of her, turns her head around to ask Marley about maybe trying out an alternate route today.

And what that distraction is, is her staring intently at Santana's ass, accentuated today by her choice to wear her tightest fitting track pants.

Santana blushes and looks back in front of her, slowing her pace and waiting for Marley to catch up to her before mapping out a new route instead.

(Santana knows a simple appreciative, admiring stare when she sees one, and that was definitely _not_ it.)

What the fuck: 1.

–

Santana has taken to teaching Marley how to cook some traditional Spanish dishes, as well as some delicious and filling low calorie meals for both Marley and her mom, since Marley has been trying to help her mother get into the healthy and fit lifestyle too.

Really, the whole deal is actually just a recipe for disaster (pun intended) as when Santana's short temper is mixed with Marley's strange ability to be able to take the mickey out of Santana and her immunity to being scared of Santana, these cooking lessons were destined for a food fight from the start.

Santana's got oil, flour and an egg strewn across her body, while Marley is soaking thanks to the kitchen hose Santana's currently clutching in defense. The kitchen is a hopeless mess, but Santana's having far too much fun to care right now.

But then Marley slinks over to her side of the kitchen, all slow and predator like, holding a cup of sugar, eyes gleaming.

"Marley," Santana warns, raising her own weapon, but it's in vain, because they both totally know she doesn't have the heart to spray Marley at such a close range.

Then Marley is straight up in her grill, smiling conspiratorially, so close now, and shit, the only thing Santana thinks in that moment is that Marley has some seriously pretty eyelashes.

And suddenly, there's a hand over her own, snatching away the spray hose and Marley's gone, grinning at Santana's frown from the opposite side of the kitchen and – _holy shit_ that water is fucking cold.

(Despite that, Santana can still feel a slow burn running through her from whatever just happened seconds ago.)

What the fuck: 2.

–

It was bound to happen sometime, really, and so when Santana and Marley get to the Lima Bean one morning and spots Brittany and Sam holding hands as they wait for their drinks, Santana's out of there faster than one can say 'Usain Bolt'.

She full out sprints for about twelve minutes until she can feel her body screaming at her and relents. Soon after Marley appears at her side and looks at her with worry. Santana just looks away, leaning forward with her hands on her hips, perplexed as to why the sight of them still makes her so irrationally angry.

"Sorry," Santana says a while later, when her breathing's under control.

Marley shakes her head, then Santana feels a pressure on her hand and looks down to see Marley's holding it in hers.

"I..." Marley starts, but she shakes her head again, then squeezes Santana's fingers. "You deserved much better than that, Santana."

She gets a simple smile and another squeeze to the hand before Marley lets go and starts jogging again, looking back at Santana with a smirk.

"Catch me if you can, Lopez," she calls over her shoulder.

Santana takes one step, then another, and another, until she's back at her normal pace and pushing through the pain.

Totally straight just friends: 2.

–

Santana gets to 12-20 for 'Totally straight just friends' when it happens, and the tally is consequently deemed obsolete.

She pitches at the Marley's house that morning and figures that, after waiting for fifteen minutes, Marley's not coming out. Mrs Rose, who is by now so accustomed to Santana waltzing in and out of her house, lets her in with a wide smile and tells her that Marley is probably still sleeping but, "Don't you want to go check up on her anyway, please?"

Santana quietly enters Marley's bedroom where, indeed, Marley is lying down, dead to the world. When Santana sits down next to her on the bed, Marley stirs.

"Up and at 'em, little Rose," Santana whispers as Marley looks at her sleepily. When Marley seems to realize just who she's looking at, her eyes go wide.

"Oh my God, Santana," Marley sits up quickly, startling Santana with the quick action. "I totally overslept, I'm so sorry, I spent all night studying for my history test, and I couldn't–"

"Marley, calm down," Santana interjects, putting a hand on Marley's shoulder and pushing her back toward the pillow. "I totally get it. Please get some sleep. You panicking out is making me panic, and I'm not up for that shit so early in the morning." Marley smiles sleepily. "You can just text me when you need to skip a session, you know. You've been working so hard, you totally deserve a morning or two off."

"Yeah?" Marley asks, body already sinking back into the mattress. Shame, girl must be really tired.

"I'll be back later for yoga, unless you need to study then too?"

Marley shakes her head, eyes already closing. "Come over. I'll need a break by then." She punctuates the sentence with a sleepy yawn.

Santana stands up and nods, even though Marley can't see her. "Sleep well, Marley," she says before she quietly sneaks out again.

But when Santana knocks on Marley's door later that evening, Marley opens the door, not dressed at all, an expression of total panic adorning her face.

"Santana! I'm sorry, this test is totally getting me down, I just..." Marley trails off, looking _so_ lost, and damn, Santana does not miss high school work at all.

"Relax, Marley," Santana says. "Thank God you're skipping tonight, 'cause my hammies feel like a dying and I'm seriously not digging the second-hand stress radiating from your pores."

Marley chuckles a bit and at least the panic leaves her face for like, a millisecond. Santana smiles before she turns to leave Marley in peace to study when Marley calls her name.

"Er," Marley says when Santana faces her again. "I know this is like, I mean.. It's probably been a while for you, but like, if you didn't mind, maybe–"

Santana stops her with a wave of her hand, getting the idea. "Need some help form the best mentor in the world?" Santana points to herself. "Also recently declared best tutor?"

Marley just rolls her eyes and leads Santana up to her room.

"So, it's not that I don't understand anything, because I get what it's all about, completely," Marley says as she sits down at her dresser, while Santana lies on the bed and flips through Marley's textbook. "It's just memorizing it all. I get confused with dates and order of events and stuff. Like, it's all in here," Marley points to her temple, "but when reciting it, I somehow mix everything up and it's just _so_ frustrating, you know?"

"I do know," Santana says, smiling as she stands up, "because believe it or not, I had the _exact_ same problem when learning this stuff. And lucky for you, I also have the solution."

"You do?" Marley says, and Santana laughs at the immediate relief that graces her features. "Shut up," Marley adds, flushing.

Santana holds out the textbook in front of her. "You know how people say that when you're fit your mind is clearer and you do better in school?" Marley nods, because she had told Santana recently that she had been having first hand experience with this since her lifestyle transition. "Well, same truth goes for the arts helping with brain stimulation and memory. So, get up, 'case we're gonna sing."

"Sing?" Marley repeats, hesitantly standing up.

"Sing _and_ dance," Santana affirms. "Give me a song that's been stuck in your head recently. And no ballads, please, dear God."

"Er... We recently did _Anything Can Happen_ in glee club?"

"Perfect. Give me your notes." Santana takes the pages and the textbook and puts it together on the bed. "So what I used to do was take an upbeat, catchy song and replace its lyrics with whatever coursework I'm struggling with, choreograph a little dance to it, and voila. Next day in class I'm shimmying in my seat and writing down dates like it's engraved on my eyelids. All because I was smart enough to make a few rhymes to a beat."

"That's..." Marley frowns, looking down at her own notes. "That's _genius_."

"Best mentor _ever_, remember?" Santana says, and Marley just gives her a little shove.

For the next hour, they sing and dance and make up lyrics that will help Marley remember the dates she couldn't before. Santana is really surprised at Marley's voice, which she's just now hearing in all its glory, not quite believing that something so strong comes from such a young body. Marley sounds _years_ older when she sings.

Marley's getting a hang of the work already, and so when they're finished composing the last few lyrics to their new version of the song and figured out some simple moves to go along with it, the panic on her face has been replaced completely with excitement.

"Ready?" Santana says, and when Marley nods, gets up on the bed and starts jumping, because that's somehow been worked into the choreography – hey, some part of studying should be fun, especially if you're only helping out of charity.

Marley laughs at Santana's childish antics and opens with the first verse, having no problem at all repeating the lyrics without any notes at hand, and, _success_. She smiles as she goes on, rejoicing at the sudden ease of it all, and Santana grins back before singing along with the chorus.

Santana jumps off the bed as Marley launches into the second verse and dances alongside her, one again joining in for the chorus. She takes Marley's hand and twirls her around, Marley smiling so wide at finally _getting_ her work that Santana can't help but grin too. Marley spins and laughs, not keeping up with the song anymore, and Santana just laughs with her, completely relieved.

Until Marley loses her footing because of her sudden carefree nature and Santana pulls her closer with an arm around her waist and the other still clasped tightly in Marley's own. Marley just laughs harder, her head now leaning against Santana's shoulder and Santana joins in despite their somewhat awkward embrace.

Marley pushes herself away from Santana with the arm that is not still attached to Santana's, but she doesn't go too far, hand just resting on Santana's chest. Her laughter trails off and so does Santana's when she realizes just how _close_ Marley is, looking at her like _that_ again, like that night, and oh.

_Oh_.

Santana just stands there, once again paralyzed, and waits. Marley pushes closer to her, then rests her forehead against Santana's, and Santana is barely breathing now. Marley's lips curl up, just a fraction, possibly at seeing whatever expression is currently on Santana's face, and just brings her head closer, nose slipping in next to Santana's. Santana can feel Marley's breath on her lips now, and for a long moment, time just seems like it's stopped.

And then Marley pushes even closer, but not yet _there_, and she just waits, waits for Santana. But honestly, it's not Santana ever really stood a chance anyway, and so she leans in the rest of the way.

Marley's lips close over top lip once, twice, oh so slowly, and Santana feels her knees buckle. She also feels her fingers holding a death grip on Marley's, entwined with her own, as well as the barely-there grasp of Marley's other hand on her collarbone. And then the gentle pressure on her lips disappears, and she takes a deep, steadying breath.

When she opens her eyes, Marley is looking at her with a slight frown, and Santana's heart sinks. Until the real reason behind the confusion is revealed.

"I've done that before, haven't I?" Marley asks softly, and it's all Santana can do to nod dumbly.

(What the fuck wins.)


	3. Part 1: Like the last time

Marley tastes of oranges; Santana can feel the flavour lingering on her lips.

She's still close, so close to Santana and it's all Santana can do to stare at her. They haven't moved an inch. Marley's still frowning at her slightly, still held in Santana's arms, with one hand still held in Santana's and the other still resting on her chest.

Then Marley continues, in an equally soft voice, "When you brought me home that night, I kissed you, didn't I? I wasn't dreaming that part up either."

Santana just nods. Again.

(She really doesn't know what else to do.)

"Okay," Marley finishes, and when Santana meets her eyes again, she knows she's in trouble.

Mrs. Rose's voice drifts up from downstairs – "Marley! Dinner!" – and then the spell is broken, Santana disentangles herself and grabs her jacket off the bed, finally finding her voice again.

"Er, yeah, so," Santana scratches the back of her head, highly uncomfortable. "Tomorrow morning, then? I mean like, jogging."

Marley nods slowly, frowning harder now, keeping her eyes trained on the jacket in Santana's hand.

"So, uh, yeah." Santana heads to the door. "Uh, eat good. I mean, dinner."

Santana just about kicks herself right now, but keeps herself in check until she's out of Marley's room and house, declining Mrs. Rose's offer to stay for dinner and almost crashing her car with her not concentrating on the road.

(And if she didn't know any better, she'd think that the look on Marley's face was disappointment.)

–

So. This is what Santana knows so far:

Santana is definitely attracted to Marley.

They've kissed. Twice.

Marley – and her tendency to kiss and/or stare at Santana – is ridiculously confusing.

Santana hasn't felt so effortlessly comfortable around someone in a very long time.

(Ever, if she's being specific – besides Brittany, of course.)

This is what Santana doesn't know:

Marley has some kind of attraction to Santana, too, maybe.

Last time Santana checked, though, Marley's also caught up between two lovely, age-appropriate boys desperately vying for her attention.

And though they've kissed – twice, Santana repeats in her mind – it could perhaps be a result of Santana's recent habit of coming to Marley's rescue, or because Marley looks up to Santana in some way after mentor week, and like, sometimes that leads to misplaced affection, but who is Santana to judge anyone else's sexuality, so.

And maybe, maybe it's just not a big deal. Marley just wants to try out the _v_ while she's deciding between two _d_'s, and Santana is merely biding her time while ignoring Brittany. Easy.

And what's the point of any of this when she's leaving this cracktown in a few months, anyway?

–

Santana decides that all in all, she doesn't know much.

–

When she wakes up the following morning, she realizes that she's about to see Marley soon, and dread fills her whole body.

God, she feels like a child with a crush.

(Maybe.)

–

Marley opens the door and greets Santana with a sheepish smile, which Santana returns.

"Ready?" Santana asks, already putting in her earphones to avoid any further awkwardness.

Marley just nods and joins Santana out on the porch, and then they set off.

–

So, it seems they're going to play this the same way as the last kiss.

Though, at least this time, Santana isn't the only one who remembers, the only one who carries the nervousness around with her.

After they visit the Lima Bean, they walk back in silence for a bit, until Marley makes small talk – something about Figgins and if he was always that insane back when Santana was at McKinley – and then they're fine, walking along and drinking their coffee like always.

And when Santana drops Marley off at her house, Marley waves at her before entering her house and Santana waves back before driving off to her own. Just like always.

But she can't help thinking that something's changed.

She just doesn't know what, yet.

–

Mrs. Rose has been badgering her to stay for dinner for weeks now, and so after she comes home early one day, she decides to ambush Santana by shutting off the television and forcing her and Marley to "Stop staring at those silly poses on the screen and take a break for once, you girls work way too hard."

Mrs. Rose has put a place for Santana and everything, and she doesn't have the heart to decline. And hell, no matter if she's been trying to avoid spending any time with Marley that's not working out, a free meal is a free meal.

(And God knows she's taking any home-cooked meal she can before it's off to the city that would no doubt mean an endless stream of take outs and microwave dinners.)

Marley sits opposite her and Mrs. Rose at the head of the table, and she can't remember the last time her own family was home for dinner at once. It's nice.

They talk about the glee club for a while, briefly about Santana's plans for the future, and then both Marley and Santana freeze when Mrs. Rose moves on to the next topic.

"So Jake was asking about you today, Marls," she says, looking over to Santana. She points to Marley, "This one's been so tight lipped about it all, Santana, maybe you can dish on your girl talk and let me in on the gossip."

Marley catches Santana's eye, and Santana wonders if the same thing is going through her head right now, that they rarely engage in 'girl talk' – specifically two instances where what they've been doing were far away from _talk_.

When no one says anything, Mrs. Rose just continues, "Come on, Marley, you used to talk about him all the time."

"Mom," Marley says, exasperated, and Mrs. Rose just laughs, amused by her daughter's apparent embarrassment. Though, Santana's sure it's definitely not embarrassment so much as utter mortification at Mrs. Rose bringing this in front of Santana, of all people. Considering.

Santana says nothing, just focuses on her broccoli and waits for the moment to pass.

(Suddenly, she feels very small.)

"Okay, okay," Mrs. Rose acquiesces. "I get it, I'm too old to be let in the loop. I remember when I had my first high school boyfriend and we went to the football field after dark, and–"

"Mom!" Marley says again, and there it is, true embarrassment, the kind preluding an over-told cringeworthy story of parental youth.

Mrs. Rose grins and launches into the story anyway, amusing Santana with her story of being arrested on the first date – caught making out while trespassing – and scoring a second one anyway, only to break up after the next because after such an eventful outing, the short-lived relationship suffered from a severe lack of adrenaline.

Santana feels a bit lighter afterward, but still can't shake the heavy feeling that still stays settled in her gut.

–

"Sorry that yoga was cut short," Marley says, when she's walking Santana to her car after dinner. "And sorry you had to listen to my mom's random old stories."

Santana chuckles. "More than alright. It was quite amusing."

She says it especially because she knows how much it irked Marley, and predictably, Marley rolls her eyes.

"If you say so."

Santana opens her door but before she gets in, a hand settles on her own, keeping her from closing it again.

"Hey," Marley says, using _that_ tone again, and Santana can't look at her, just keeps staring at their hands. "What she said about–"

Santana pulls her hand back and clears her throat, because she doesn't want to talk about Ryder or Jake, because it's not any of her business, not really.

"Your mom's really cool, don't worry, I really like her," Santana interrupts. Attempting some form of normality, she asks. "I'll see you the morning. Deal?"

"Deal," Marley repeats, but it's totally half-assed, and there's that look of disappointment again.

Marley leans forward and hugs Santana regardless, and Santana doesn't quite know how she feels about it.

The entire drive back, she swears she still feels the phantom press of Marley's body against her own.

–

Santana hates her period.

She _hates_ her period.

Puberty brought with it an onslaught of debilitating cramps that's left her a useless shell of a person, and she just _dies_ for five days, basically. Some months it is still literally the worst thing in the motherfucking world, and she can feel that this is one of those months.

_Hates_ it.

She calls Marley on the Friday morning when she wakes up and feels her uterus screaming at her.

"Marley," she croaks when the dial tone dies out. "Hey."

"Santana? Are you okay?"

Santana wonders what she must sound like right now for Marley to be so alert.

"Yeah, I just," Santana pants, sounding like she would on the way back from their morning run, "I can't work out today. Or like, the rest of the weekend. Will you be alright be yourself?"

"Yeah, of course, Santana," Marley says, and Santana can hear the worry in her voice. "But are you okay though? What's wrong? Can I help?"

Santana would laugh at Marley's stressful way of caring if she didn't think the action would make her abdomen burst open.

"I'm fine, just, got major cramps."

"Oh," Marley says, "I'm so sorry, that's awful. Yeah, take some pills and get some sleep, it's totally fine."

At this, Santana chuckles. "I would have, if anything ever helps. Listen Marley, I gotta go, but I'll ring you sometime next week, okay?"

"Sure," Marley says, then adds a gentle, "hope you feel better, Santana," and Santana just about does.

–

Santana doesn't sleep at all. Her pain keeps her up all night and she's constantly running down to the kitchen to heat up her water bottle, and then her legs cramp up because of the exertion, and she just feels even worse after that, but at least the water bottle gives some temporary relief.

By noon the next day, Santana's exhausted, fucking sore, and wants to just crawl in a fucking coffin and _die_.

Her mum came in earlier to bring her some breakfast and coo at her in sympathy, but not even some motherly love has done the trick. So when her door opens, she just mutters a weak, "Still not hungry, mom."

Her mother doesn't leave, just walks in and comes sits next to her on the bed, where she's hunched over with her head in her hands. She feels a hand rub at her lower back and leans into the touch.

"I'd ask how you're feeling but I looking at you I guess I don't have to."

Okay, so that's definitely not her mother's voice, and _holy fuck_ Santana jumps up in surprise and _ow shit_ that is painful.

"Jesus, Marley!" Santana says. "You can't sneak up on people like that!"

Santana is out of breath again, and Marley takes her by the waist and brings her back to the bed, gets her settled again, muttering "sorry, sorry," and Santana feels like a proper old lady right about now.

"What are you doing here?" Santana asks, and lies down while she's at it. She can't even sit upright anymore.

"You always take care of me," Marley says simply. "So I thought I'd help you out for a change."

"That's sweet," Santana says earnestly, then gives a dry chuckle, "but there's not much you can do to help, unfortunately."

Marley sits at Santana's side and brushes her hair out of her face.

(Santana is exceptionally glad for her ethnicity right now.)

"Your mom says you haven't slept. Have you taken something?"

Santana shakes her head. Her parents have always had something against strong painkillers after years of seeing young athletes become addicted to the stuff, and now Santana has to suffer the repercussions of total strangers' stupid mistakes.

"Santana," Marley says, almost condescendingly, like Santana is stupid for not taking the one thing that make all her problems go away – or at least just numb a bit of it for a while – and like, duh, Santana totally agrees, but unfortunately parental guidance applies to her pharmaceutical decisions.

Marley reaches into her backpack and takes out a small tin and some juice.

"I brought you some of my medicine. I always had it bad, too, but these pills have like, changed my life." Marley grins, what a dork, but Santana so thankful for her right now and she doubts that even the heaviest of drug addicts have ever been so glad to see some fucking pills. "It's really really strong, though, so. You don't have to take them if you don't want to. What's your tolerance like?"

"Non-existent," Santana says, but takes the pills as soon as she sees them. "You're a saviour, Marley Rose."

Marley laughs at Santana's desperate behaviour. She hands Santana some green ice-tea and fuck, Santana owes Marley like a thousand solids right now.

"Lie back, it'll kick in in about an hour, and I promise you you'll get some sleep."

Santana does, hoping to God she will. "Wanna watch a movie?" Santana asks.

Marley nods and Santana points her over to her cabinet full of DVDs, telling her to pick whatever. Marley comes back with _West Side Story_, biting her lip, and Santana remembers how she told Marley about the play last year, and how surprised she was when Marley admitted to never seeing it before. Like, how has she lived? Santana chuckles at her choice, and scoots over, making space for Marley to lie down next to her.

Santana makes it to just after _America_ – like she's really going to fall asleep without reliving her own legendary performance, come on – before she can feel her eyes drooping and turns over to her side.

Marley must sense that Santana's about to sleep, so she turns off the television to keep the sound down. If Santana wasn't so very tired, she'd tell Marley that she can keep watching, but she doesn't even feel like she has enough energy to move her lips right now. The night of lost sleep must finally be catching up to her, but on the upside, at least her pain has subsided considerably. These pills are the _shit_.

She wants to tell Marley that, too, but like, she's totally half gone.

And then the most curious thing happens.

She feels Marley get in the bed next to her. For a moment, she feels nothing, but then Marley moves. She seems to lie, impassive, but then shuffles again, and then Santana feels an arm stretch around her waist and a body pressing against her own, and, okay. Maybe this is okay, like this.

It's actually very nice, and Santana doesn't even have the energy to be tense about it, and just sinks into the mattress, into the body behind her, and then.

Nothing.

–

When Santana wakes up, she feels like she's in a delirium. No pain, no exhaustion, just comfort.

Most of that comfort is attributed to the body next to her though.

She's curled up against Marley, lying with her head on Marley's chest with a hand resting on her stomach, and, well.

This is quite new.

She must have turned over in her sleep and snuggled into Marley. Marley, who is now also waking up, probably after feeling Santana stir. Santana looks up and find blue eyes looking down at her.

Sorry," Santana mutters, looking down at their joined bodies in reference to what she's talking about, but makes no effort to move.

"It's okay," Marley whispers back, and she seems like she means it.

"What's in those pills?" Santana asks, and Marley grins.

"One tenth tramadol and the rest is paracetamol."

"Holy shit," Santana says. "I want more."

Marley grins even wider, obviously amused, but honestly, Santana doesn't feel high enough to entertain anyone. Yet.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea..." Marley smirks. "Are you sore again?"

"No, but," Santana says seriously, "honestly, Marley, if the pain comes back, I might just die. Like. _Die_."

Marley chuckles, and disentangles herself from Santana. "Addict," she jests, but reaches into her bag anyway, pulling out two more pills.

"Awesome," Santana says, after drinking two more and Marley settles next to her again.

For a beat, Santana just stares at Marley, wondering if what just happened will happen again if it's a conscious decision, but after a beat, Marley makes a move. She takes over Santana's previous position, putting her head on Santana's shoulder and throwing an arm over her stomach.

Santana takes it one step further – because hey, they've come this far, what's two more inches – by putting a hand over Marley's, and Marley obliges by taking hold of it an entwining their fingers again.

Sleep comes fast after that.

–

Santana wakes up soon after, when it's just getting dark, and fuck, she feels like she's floating.

She can't remember when last she felt _this_ relaxed, amazing, and just. Yeah.

Marley with her Santana sixth sense wakes up too, in Santana's arms, and Santana realizes she's spooning Marley now. She doesn't really want Marley to move, because she's _oh so_ comfortable, and just wants to lie like this forever.

Marley turns around and catches Santana's eye, and Santana smiles at her, dopily. Marley chuckles when she her.

"Hi," Marley whispers.

"Hello," Santana whispers back.

Marley grins again, unabashedly, and buries her head in the pillow.

"How're you feeling?" she asks.

"Yeah," is all Santana says, and Marley laughs again.

Santana's hands are still around Marley's waist, and like this, lying together side by side, this is when Santana can really _stare_ at Marley. She likes staring at Marley, she's found. And now Marley's staring back.

And Santana is just so content right now, it's ridiculous. So she moves closer, pulling Marley toward her by placing pressure at the small of her back, and well.

Santana sees Marley's eyes flick downward, and really, there's nothing to wait for or think about, this time, and they both lean in at the same time.

Oranges, again. Santana kisses Marley, lazily, and fuck. She should have just done this _so much sooner_.

Santana's hand tightens around Marley's middle and then there's a hand cupping her cheek. Santana licks Marley's lip, and then Marley responds in kind, and then their tongues are touching, and Santana feels her toes curl.

It's deep, it's slow, and it's so fucking perfect that Santana feels like she's about to stop breathing.

But then she really feels like she's about to stop breathing, and tenderly pulls away, getting some air. She pecks Marley's lips again, twice, and then just smiles against Marley's mouth, feeling Marley's lips pull up in turn.

Santana sighs and settles against Marley again, feels a light kiss against her cheek, and falls asleep again within seconds.

–

The rest of the night Santana recalls in snippets.

She'd wake up every few hours, somehow entangled with Marley, and Marley would rouse upon feeling Santana move, and they'd automatically turn toward each other. Santana's lips would find Marley's in the dark, and they'd kiss lazily for a few minutes, sigh deeply, then fall asleep again.

It's the oddest thing.

(It's the most wonderful thing.)

–

When Santana wakes up to the sun filtering into her room the next morning, though, she looks up to find Marley, and faces an empty space instead.

She hears a zipper from her other side and turns to see Marley sitting on the edge of her bed and closing her bag. She smiles down at Santana when she sees that she's awake, and seems to fold into herself a bit, suddenly shy.

The sight of it makes an automatic smile appear on Santana's face and seeing the reaction makes Marley relax a bit.

"Hi," Marley says softly. "I have to go, but I didn't want to wake you."

"It's fine," Santana says, turning on her side and watching Marley put on her shoes.

"My mom's outside to pick me up, so..." Marley says, tying her laces. "I left some painkillers for you, for later, if you wanted."

"Awesome," Santana says, watching Marley sit up, already thinking of her myriad of hiding places from her parents, and which one would be best suited to these pills.

"I hope you feel better," Marley says, then seems to be a bit hesitant about her next move.

Santana presses up on her elbow and regards Marley seriously. "Thank you so much, Marley," she says, as sincere as she can, because God knows that's not a register she often goes to. "For everything."

Marley just nods and bites her lip. She seems to want to say something but doesn't, and instead, scoots a bit closer to Santana. Then she leans in and gives Santana a quick, final kiss, and Santana just lets her, smiling at Marley's shyness.

"Bye, Santana," Marley says, and then Santana's left to her own thoughts, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the neighbourhood waking up.

Not everything has to mean something, all the time, Santana tells herself.

–

By Thursday, Santana has finally recovered enough to work out again. She steps up to Marley's house that morning, nervous but ready.

So yeah, they made out a little. That's totally fine. Santana's totally fine with it. She doesn't know what it means, but hey. She guesses these things happen.

The problem is, Santana came to this conclusion while stuffed up on her happy pills, and now sober in the light of day, this mantra suddenly feels stale.

And now, it's more like, so yeah, they made out a little. Is that totally fine? Is Santana fine with it? It doesn't mean something, right? Do these things happen between friends who work out together?

Suddenly Santana feels a bit less than ready, but she's knocking on the door, and she can hear footsteps approaching, and so she'll probably be able to answer all her questions in about two seconds.

Or not, because Marley seems to really take this mentor thing to heart and follows Santana's previous examples directly, smiling at her like nothing's happened and putting her earphones in with a casual, "Lead the way, Miss Lopez."

And well, what else is there to do? So she runs.

–

Santana's birthday is coming up.

It's been two weeks since her illness extravaganza, two weeks of exercising with Marley like they didn't mack each other's faces off just five minutes ago, and Santana's just going with the flow, really. Marley seems happy, so she guesses everything's fine then.

It feels a bit weird, turning nineteen. Like she should be doing amazing things already – doing _something_ already, and instead she's chilling out in her home town and focusing on training a random sophomore she met like five months ago.

But hey, things could be worse, and she's still on schedule for her big move, and she feels more relaxed and at ease than she has in a long while. She's taking things slowly, and it feels like she's clearing her head, at least. So, something must be working.

When Marley sees her she gives Santana a secret smile and says, "How's nineteen feel?"

"How'd you know it's my birthday?" Santana says, walking with Marley to the pavement, where they

"Uh, hello, you told me," Marley says, rolling her eyes. "Though, it was ages ago, but still."

"Super brain," Santana mutters, and Marley just laughs and puts on her music.

–

When Santana drops Marley off on her porch, Marley gives her a hug, and whispers in her, "Happy birthday, Santana."

And when Marley pulls back, she keeps her arms around Santana's neck, and then leans in, and by now Santana's caught on to Marley's different little moods, and meets her halfway. She kisses Santana, sweetly, closing her lips over Santana's three times before letting go and stepping back, glancing at Santana with mirth in her eyes.

"Thanks," is all Santana says, dumbfounded, and Marley giggles a bit before disappearing into the house.

Not the worst start to a birthday, she guesses.

–

Despite her many objections during phone calls with Quinn or chats with her parents about not wanting to do anything for her birthday this year, she comes home from a long trip to the mall Friday night to find people jumping out at her from behind every piece of furniture in her house when she walks through the front door.

Surprise, indeed. According to Quinn, who slings an arm around her shoulders and leads her to a table stocked with drinks, her parents subtly let Quinn know that Santana would be in Lime 'for the weekend', and allowed Quinn to host whatever she sees fit while they traipse off to some out of town hotel for the weekend.

She loves them.

And also secretly Quinn, because despite what she will say later on, the party is quite a pleasant surprise, and she always appreciates Quinn flying all the way down here to see her, so. What she isn't thankful for, however, is the fact that Quinn saw fit to invite her former best friend slash girlfriend and accompanying beau – "It's been long enough, San, the three of us have never been apart for your birthday" – but at least she also had the good sense to fill the house with enough people that Brittany's presence doesn't bother Santana too much.

Seriously, Santana isn't really even sure that she knows all these people.

There is a group of people she _does_ know, though, out back on the porch. Mostly glee kids grouped around a barbeque, manned by none other than the Puckasaurus himself, who Santana is always secretly happy to see.

Upon seeing Santana, he lets throws down his cooking utensils and engulfs her in a big hug, chanting, "Birthday girl! Birthday girl!" and yup, that's a lot of beer on his breath. Santana wonders how long everyone waited for her to arrive.

Then she's bombarded with hugs and congratulations from the rest of the guys, a stand out being Marley, who Santana hugs last, and then just lingers next to her for a bit, since Marley decided to hold on to Santana's hand behind her back, and that's also rather nice.

Fuck everyone else partying inside, really.

–

Santana isn't quite sure how much alcohol Quinn brought to this party, but she's sure she's enjoyed at least like, two thirds of it.

The night has turned out _great_.

There's been drinking, and dancing, and laughing, and for some reason all these elements just feel better than usual, and Santana attributes it to being one year older. Nineteen? Pretty splendid, so far.

Right now she's talking to some college dude who she's never seen in her entire life, but he's funny as a motherfucker – which is saying something, because she's cooled down from _drunk as fuck_ and arrived at _super pleasantly tipsy_ – and he hasn't tried to hit on her once, so presumably he is also gay. Because, well. Duh.

She doesn't know what does it, but in the middle of this guy's story about backpacking after school and getting lost in the desert for like a month – she's pretty sure he's just retelling Jesus' life and making it his own so far, but he still manages to make it amusing – she spots blonde hair disappearing up the staircase.

And Brittany's definitely not going to the bathroom, which is just off the living room, so naturally Santana excuses herself from Teen Jesus the Second and goes to see where Brittany's off to. When she gets to the deserted upstairs level – because earlier she threatened to skin anyone's balls who dared come up here tonight, even the girls' – she can she the door of her room open slightly, and what is Brittany up to?

Santana lingers outside her room for a bit and try to hear what Brittany's looking for, but can't hear a thing. Santana hasn't had a real conversation with Brittany in so long that she doesn't know if she should go in, but it's not like she can just leave the girl in there either.

Looking through the gap in the door, she sees Brittany standing by the window, just staring outside, and Santana can tell that she probably needs something. Judging by her stance, it's either to be alone, or to talk. Still feeling the lingering pull to make Brittany happy, make her feel better always, Santana slowly enters the room.

Brittany doesn't move and Santana's that she knows who it is that comes in behind her. Santana closes the door gently in case she guessed right that Brittany needs to talk, and whatever, of course Santana will listen, it's not she'll ever stop caring about Brittany, so.

"Hey," Santana murmurs when she steps up next to Brittany. "You okay?"

Brittany doesn't look at Santana, just keeps staring out of the window, and Santana can see faint tear tracks running down her cheek.

"Britt? What's wrong?"

Brittany shakes her head and moves away from the hand Santana puts on her shoulder.

Suddenly angry – maybe there is still more alcohol in her than she thought – Santana rolls her eyes at the dramatics and turns to leave. Like, why is Brittany shying away? It's not like Santana brought a fish to the party, too.

"I'll leave you to be alone then," Santana bites out, until a hand on her arm stops her from leaving.

"I'm not even part of your life anymore, Santana," Brittany bites back, and right, okay, so this is going to be a fight then. Well, bring it on, because Santana's just been _waiting_ for someone to let her frustration out on. "It's not fair," Brittany adds.

"Oh, yeah, and that's my fault?" Santana pulls her hand away from Brittany's grip, fully facing her and squaring her shoulders, because she is _so_ ready to play this game.

"Yes, it is," Brittany says simply.

Santana laughs. "Please, Brittany. We broke up, yeah, fine. Did I force you to exchange vows _minutes_ after it? Hm? Did I throw you into Sam's bed to spend your last Mayan minutes on earth fucking his brains out to dampen the apocalyptic pain? Was that all me and my break up?"

Santana hasn't been this mean to Brittany since junior year, and it's showing. Brittany's crying silently, and Santana doesn't even have the heart to feel guilty anymore. When is it her turn to break down, to take a few minutes to feel hurt and lonely? She's tired of giving all the time.

"Stop it," Brittany whispers.

"You know what," Santana says, "I won't. Because I'm sick of feeling like the bad guy for doing something I thought was good for us at the time. Stop playing the victim and blaming me for your shit, Brittany."

Santana turns and walks away, until Brittany says, "I miss you."

She stops and exhales. But it's not like it's changing anything, so. "Yeah," Santana answers, opening the door. "So you've said."

As she reaches the door, though, Brittany's right behind her and closing the door over Santana's shoulder.

"No," Brittany says. "I _miss_ you."

And then the air changes completely.

"You know, I don't even know what you want for your birthday this year?" Brittany continues. "Like, every year, you used to tell me what you wanted the most."

Santana sighs and turns to face Brittany. But then Brittany is so close that maybe she shouldn't have done that.

"When you were six you wanted that dream house that we played with until it broke when you brought it over to my house and Lord T sat on it," Brittany says. "And when we were thirteen you wished for us to make it on the Cheerios when we get to high school, remember? I've never forgotten any of your wishes, and I've always made sure they came true."

"Brittany," Santana warns, because she knows what happens when Brittany gets like this.

(And she knows she won't have any willpower if it does.)

"Do you remember what you wished for last year?" Brittany asks, now sporting a smirk, moving closer by the second.

Santana gulps. In a strained whisper, she answers, "You."

Brittany nods slowly, and before Santana registers, they're kissing, and God.

It's been so, _so_ long.

The kiss is chaste for about a second before Santana's hands are in Brittany's hair and pulling her closer, closer, closer, and Brittany's fingers dig into Santana's hips doing the same.

And then Santana's slinging her arms over Brittany's shoulders and Brittany is picking Santana up effortlessly, and all Santana can think is that old habits die hard.

Her back hits the bed before she knows it, and everything is frenzied, now. Brittany moans when Santana's hands cup her breasts through her blouse, then drags her own hands down and hikes Santana's tight dress up to her middle.

Brittany's tongue doesn't leave Santana's for a second, not even when both her hands pull Santana's thong down past her knees. Santana pushes up on her elbows to keep their mouths together, too, because if they part Santana will think, think, think, but her thoughts feel so far away right now so she feels okay, here, in this moment.

Santana wraps her legs around Brittany's waist and reaches down to untie Brittany's jeans and push it down her legs along with her underwear, and then she's being pressed back and feels a hand on the inside on her thigh and then, _oh_, Brittany is inside of her, and everything turns to nothing.

One of her hands reaches down next to Brittany's and then, _ugh_, she's inside, too, and they're moving together, wildly, quickly – they're _fucking_, and they both know it.

Brittany breaks their kiss and gasps as she starts pushing her hips into Santana's, and buries her head into Santana's shoulder. Santana can hear her moan as their hips meet, can hear her own moans, hear the bedpost hitting the wall with their ever-quickening movements – _bang, bang, bang_ – and fuck, she's not going to last at all.

She curls her fingers, once, twice, and Brittany's shaking against her, letting out a low groan, and then Santana's losing control, too, gripping Brittany's hair so hard with her free hand that she thinks the strands might stay on in her hand after she lets go.

When her vision comes back, she stares up at the ceiling, hears both their laboured breathing, feels Brittany's body lying slack on her own, head still buried in her shoulder, and for a second, everything feels like it should.

But after that second has passed, everything goes back to being shitty and broken, and Santana can't stand it. Right now, everything about being with Brittany just feels _wrong_.

Maybe it's the whole turning nineteen thing, and that sneaking behind Brittany's boyfriend's back just isn't as much fun as it used to be, or as satisfying, or in any way mature, now that she's had the real thing, now that she's _had_ Brittany, and knows what it's like when things are _not_ shitty and broken.

She doesn't want to go back to getting the scraps.

(But she also doesn't want to go back to completely being with Brittany, when she's still so fucking mad, all of the time.)

But she guesses that they just can't help themselves, they never could, which is why they're currently lying with their hands in each other's pants.

It's like they've forgotten how to be best friends.

Santana understands now, the way in which Brittany misses her. Because she misses that part of them, too.

Brittany must feel that something's wrong with Santana, because she lifts her head and looks into her eyes, and it takes about two seconds for her to read what's going on on Santana's face, because Santana can actually see how Brittany's heart breaks at the sight of it.

But they just _can't_, not like this. Nothing is like it used to be, and Santana can see that Brittany realizes that as well, even through all the heartbreak.

And it's just as well, too, since a gruff, "Brittany?" sounds from the hallway, and oh, right, that's still a factor, too.

Santana pushes Brittany off her and pulls on her panties, readjusts her dress. She can feel Brittany's eyes on her, still frozen on the bed, until Santana fixes her with a glare and gestures, and Brittany puts her pants on and ties her belt.

Another, "Britt? You up here?" is called from outside, and Brittany clears her throat and calls back, "Be right there!" while her eyes never leave Santana.

She gets up off the bed and tries to approach Santana, but Santana's not having any of it, pushing Brittany away and heading to her en suite.

"Santana..." Brittany whispers. Santana just shakes her head and backs away, closing the door slowly.

Brittany hangs her head and nods, and then Santana closes the bathroom door as Brittany opens her bedroom one, just in time to catch a mop of blond hair and a smile upon seeing Brittany.

Santana rolls her eyes, locks the door and climbs into the bathtub, getting into a comfortable position and falling asleep while waiting for everyone to leave so she can be alone.

She spends all night dreaming in the tub, remembering boys in wheelchairs, Mayan weddings and kissing lists, and forgetting what it actually felt like for Brittany to be _hers_.

–

When she wakes up the next morning, she's tired from not really sleeping and sore from the tub.

She exits her en suite to find multiple post-its posted to the door and, knowing that Quinn has experience with her proneness to disappear into bathrooms at parties, she's sure that little Fabray was the mastermind behind everyone saying goodbye and giving last minute birthday wishes by leaving notes on the door.

Quinn's is, rather obnoxiously, made up of ten post-its stuck together with a large 'You suck, sleepyhead' written on it, along with a small side-note of 'Kidding, love you, happy birthday' at the bottom. She spends a few moments reading everyone's amusing drunken notes – Brittany had the good sense not to leave one, thank goodness – until she gets to a small one near the handle with two running shoes drawn on it.

It reads, 'Thanks for everything, enjoy your dreamy birthday, see you soon, M.'

And, well. Shit. She forgot about Marley.

Not that it matters, because, actually, it's not like she owes Marley anything. Does she? She's sure Marley's off with Ryder and Jake all the time, anyway, and like, if Santana happens to have drunken rough sex with her ex-girlfriend because they don't know how else to communicate lately, it really it none of Marley's business.

Sorted.

She reads the note again, and hopes that _soon_ means much, much later, because she feels like her hangover won't ever go away, and also, she's not quite sure how she'll feel around Marley right now.

As fate would have it, however, the doorbell chooses that moment to ring – _ow_, her head – and while she's walking downstairs, she can't help but chant _Please be Quinn, Please be Quinn_ under her breath.

But of course it's Marley, all smiles and high spirits, who frowns upon seeing Santana's state, and comes in without preamble and helps Santana to the couch.

"What do you need?" Marley asks, and Santana winces.

"A lower volume?" Santana asks.

Marley chuckles, then murmurs a soft, "Sorry."

"What are you doing here?" Santana asks, but not unkindly. Or so she hopes.

"Have you seen the state of your house?"

Santana shakes her head. "Just woke up." She takes a look around, and fuck, tsunami, tornado, typhoon, all of the above are applicable to explaining the current state of her house. "Fuck," she breathes, putting her head in her hands.

"It's okay," Marley says, putting a hand on her back. "I'm here to help."

Santana freezes at the touch, but doesn't let it show, and luckily she and Marley don't know each other's body language well enough yet for the other girl to pick it up.

Santana doesn't even answer with a "You don't have to," because she's more than happy for the help.

"But first," Marley continues, pulling something from behind her back, "I have this."

It's a gift, wrapped in beautiful purple paper, and God, Marley _really_ didn't have to do that, especially since Santana is all too aware that money isn't exactly running free in the Rose house, and somehow that thought just makes Santana feel bad.

"Marley–" Santana starts.

"No, I wanted to," Marley says, and upon seeing that Santana wants to object again, adds. "Please. You're always giving me things. Please let me do the same just this once?"

"Fine," Santana relents, and sinks back into the sofa, watching Marley.

"So," Marley says. "I... Well, you know that like, I couldn't buy you anything awesome–"

"Marley..." Santana starts again, but Marley just gives her this _look_ and Santana raises her hands in defence and acquiesces.

"And you can always get yourself anything you want," Marley continues, "So I decided to make you something, if that's okay?"

All the previous confidence leaves Marley at that question and Santana smiles to settle Marley's nerves. "It's so much more than okay, Marley," Santana says, and Marley relaxes.

"Here," is all Marley adds, putting the box on Santana's lap. "Happy birthday."

Santana sits up to unwrap it and Marley scoots closer, waiting for the moment the gift is revealed.

It's a light blue tank, with a low cut much like the ones Santana always goes jogging in, and there's a round black print on the front that looks like a badge of sorts. Upon closer inspection, she can see that it's a handcrafted design stitched into the shirt. In the middle is a little picture of two people stretching next to a television, and written around it in a circle are the words 'Aunty Snix's Muscle Emporium.'

It's one of the most thoughtful gifts Santana's ever gotten, and she doesn't even want to think how long it took for Marley to stitch it up, and she just stares at it for a second, super impressed and beyond thankful. She's flabbergasted, really.

She can feel Marley fidgeting next to her, probably confused by Santana's lack of response, and turns to face her, regretting the decision when she sees Marley _right there_. She presses on anyway, not entirely sure if she can ever let Marley know how utterly grateful she is for a present like this.

"Do you like it?" Marley whispers, insecure.

"Marley," Santana shakes her head disbelievingly. "It's so wonderful, I can't even... Thank you _so_ much."

Marley breaks into a smile and leans her forehead on Santana's, and oh no, Santana's not ready for another moment like this right now, the very morning after fucking another girl.

(Which is weird, because between Brittany and Marley, Santana should be seeing Marley as 'another girl'.)

"I'm glad you like it," Marley says, then leans in to kiss Santana, and shit.

Santana turns her head and Marley's lips hit her cheek. It's awkward for about five seconds when Marley pulls away, until she brushes it off and stands, clapping her hands together.

"So," Marley says. "Kitchen or living room first?"

Santana groans and falls back again, and Marley just laughs as she pulls Santana towards the kitchen.

–

At the end of the day, the kitchen shines and the living room looks immaculate. Santana is sweating like a pig and Marley looks like she's about to pass out, but at least, looking around them, the effort was worth it.

"I don't know how I'll ever repay you," Santana says as she's driving Marley back home.

"You've done more than enough, Santana," is all Marley says in return, like that settles it.

When she stops outside Marley's house, Marley doesn't get out of the car. She just sits and stares at her hands like she wants to say something, but can't find the words.

"Everything alright?" Santana asks, perplexed at the behaviour.

Marley nods, then takes a deep breath. "I wanted to do something with you on your birthday," she says.

Santana smiles. "Well, we had a big party?"

Marley laughs, less tense than before. "I mean, I wanted to do something with you, since no-one knows you're here, but then Quinn called and invited me over for the party instead. I had something planned though, and was wondering if you wanted to do like, still do that with me, maybe another night?"

Santana freezes for a minute, because that does not sound like anything near a birthday celebration invitation, but then remembers her tendency to overreact, and relaxes.

"Of course I will, Marley," she says. "That was a very thoughtful idea, thank you."

Santana doesn't know why trying to keep her cool makes her sound like a character from Downton Abbey, but it looks like Marley is rolling with it, judging by the giant smile on her face, so. Success.

"Cool," Marley says. "Next weekend, then?"

"Deal," is Santana's cheeky reply.

Marley just rolls her eyes good-naturedly, gives Santana a quick hug, and then she's gone, leaving Santana to wonder what this is all about.

–

After a week of working out again – Santana wearing and washing her new tank top every single day, progress on the laundry front, at least – they've decided on a date for Marley's thing.

Wait.

Not a date.

Just a mutual free space in both their calendars in which Marley will be wanting to celebrate Santana's birthday. Again.

There, Santana thinks. Much better.

So Santana goes over to Marley's house just as it gets dark and Marley surprises Santana by coming out the front door before Santana's even at the porch. She's holding two flashlights and a wearing a backpack, then hands Santana a flashlight, all business-like, and walks down the road. Santana just stands there for a second, confused, before joggin to catch up with Marley.

"Where ya going?" Santana asks.

Marley brings her finger up to her lips. "Secret," is all she says.

If there's one thing Santana never pegged Marley as, it's secretive, but apparently Santana was wrong about that.

They make small talk while walking toward an area of Lima Santana's never really been to before, but then again, she's never really made the effort, so. She guesses it's different with Marley constantly exploring after moving to a new place. The girl wants to run new routes as often as possible, too, so Santana's at least gotten a secondhand taste of the adventure. She quite likes seeing these new places with Marley, though, especially since in some months she won't see them again.

The houses and streetlights start thinning out until they find themselves at the edge of a forest-like area that's at the foot of a small hill that must be more to the outer edge of town.

Or so Santana thinks. She has no fucking clue where they are right now.

Marley turns on both their flashlights, and hell to the no.

"You don't seriously think I'm going to haul my ass in there, do you?" Santana asks, and Marley just laughs.

"It's not that bad, Santana," Marley says. "Trust me. The trees are really far apart and you can see almost everything around you if you have enough light. We're not going that far in, I promise."

Marley starts walking into the woods but Santana stays put, seriously dubious. Marley just rolls her eyes and walks back to Santana, grabs her hand and pulls her along.

After passing the first line of trees, Santana sees it isn't so bad, with the flashlights. Also a little bit because Marley hasn't stopped holding her hand and it's nice, like this.

Marley stops and tugs Santana back, pointing upwards. And of course, being Marley, she brought Santana to an old abandoned treehouse, just when she thought the Dawson's Creek clichés could not get any better.

"So, I'm not climbing that," Santana says, pointing to a very not-sturdy looking ladder that runs up the tree. "Also, can that treehouse even carry anything heavier than a leaf? It looks old as fuck."

"Sure it can," Marley says, "come on."

They get up in one piece, and Santana sees that the inside definitely does not match the outside. There's a light in there, some comfortable – albeit old – pillows and blankets, and the floor and walls are lined with a rugged carpet.

"You did this?" Santana asks.

Marley nods. "I fount the carpet in our attic. It's old, but I cleaned it and it works to make it just a bit more comfortable. No splinters, you know."

"Wow, Marley," Santana says, "this is really awesome."

Marley smiles. "Thanks." She takes out some containers from her backpack – Chinese takeout, looks like – and pushes some pillows in Santana's direction. "Have a seat. Then take a look out front."

Turning back, Santana can once again see a whole part of Lima illuminated by streetlights, and it's just as serene as from the top of Marley's hill.

"What is it with you and views?" Santana asks.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Marley answers, simply, and well, Santana can't argue with that.

They sit and eat their meals in comfortable silence, watching over the town, and Santana gets why Marley probably likes this – it's more the peacefulness that comes with being up here than the view itself.

When it starts getting cold, Marley helps Santana back down, and once again doesn't let go of Santana's hand, holding it loosely in her own all the way back to her house.

Marley only lets go when they're heading up the Rose driveway, Santana diligently walking Marley home after a night out, and that thought makes Santana wonder just how much of this night was really about her birthday. Seeing Santana slow down, Marley comes to a stop and faces her.

"Thanks for the awesome birthday present," Santana says, and upon Marley's look of confusion, Santana's fears are confirmed. Even Marley forgot about the convenient birthday excuse.

(If so, what was this? Just friends hanging out, Santana tells herself.)

"Yeah," Marley recovers. "A bit of an anti-climax after the party, but..."

"No, I loved it. The treehouse is awesome, I'd love to see it when it's not quarter past murder-hour."

Marley smiles. "I'll take you sometime."

Santana doesn't quite know what to make of that idea. She just smiles and nods. "Well, thanks again, see you in the morning, yeah?"

Marley nods, watching Santana closely as she takes a step forward, and seeing no warning signs, moves forward and hugs her. Santana puts her arms around Marley and pulls her tighter against her, and it seems as though the slight strain that's been between them since Marley tried to kiss and she turned away is somehow lifted, then.

Marley must still be somehow aware of that, though, because when she pulls away, Santana receives another swift kiss to the cheek and then Marley's disappearing into her house with a wave and a smile.

Driving back, Santana replays the events of the evening and looks for anything that might indicate that tonight was a date.

Yeah, there was the handholding and the comfortable silences and the strangely long hug at the end, but that could be any chilled, platonic evening in her books.

So what if Santana felt more relaxed around Marley than she has around anyone in a really long time, it doesn't mean anything romantic.

They didn't even kiss, Santana thinks.

Just friends hanging out.

–

The next time they _do_ kiss, though, Santana's totally fucking prepared for it, and it's the best it's ever been.

They've been working out and going about things like there's not this edge to all their interactions now, as per usual. And Santana's not heard from Brittany since that night, so, she's forced herself to forget, and realized that maybe, it just didn't mean anything, and she just felt a bit lost and lonely, where Brittany is concerned.

So all in all, things are going fine and normal and dandy, and so when Marley once again invites her to do something that's not exercising, Santana quickly agrees.

She likes spending time with Marley. That's one of the few, legitimate and unchanging things that she is absolutely sure of at the moment. She likes spending time with Marley. That's it. She likes it.

It's another cooking lesson, and this time Marley wants to learn how to make Santana's famous chicken pie – the very simple secret is in the sauce, but she'll tell Marley that right at the end, keep the suspense going like the utter bitch she is.

Marley's rolling the dough while Santana defrosts the chicken, and when Santana's sick of waiting by the microwave she goes over to Marley's side of the kitchen to see how she's faring. She looks over Marley's shoulder and gives an impressed "hm" at seeing the body of the dough and how neatly Marley's rolling it out.

"Good?" Marley asks, turning to face Santana, and once again they're so close to each other, but Santana's gotten so use to Marley being in her personal space by now that she just kind of stays there, hovering behind Marley.

"Definitely," Santana says, and when Marley turns her head to face her and smiles, Santana can't help but laugh.

"What?" Marley asks, now also cracking a smile.

She turns her whole body in Santana's arms and Santana's only now realizing that she's bracketing Marley against the counter, but it only takes a second of her attention as she's so distracted by the cute stripe of flour that runs from Marley's nose across her whole right cheek. Santana just keeps on chuckling while raising her left hand to swipe off some of the flour, then wiggles her fingers at Marley to show what she's laughing at.

Marley laughs, but just briefly, and Santana can't understand why Marley isn't as amused by this as her. Until she sees Marley biting her lip, and become acutely aware of her body pressing against Marley's own, and then it's like she's not even in control of her own hand when it returns to Marley's cheek and grazes the skin there. Marley leans into the touch, then into _her_ and Santana pushes forward and kisses Marley, slowly, deeply, pinning her against the counter as she does.

Santana's one hand cups Marley's cheek, the other keeps her body steady on the counter as her lips move against Marley's, and she feels Marley's hand come up and tangle in her hair, and wow, Marley's just such a fucking good kisser, it's insane. She drags her left hand down to settle on Marley's hip, and then she's got both of Marley's arms around her neck and she feels and tastes Marley everyfuckingwhere and she's not even paying attention to the microwave beeping in the background because everything feels so fucking great in this moment.

Until her mother's voice drifts down from the stairs – "Mi amor, did you find the mushrooms?" – and she quickly untangles herself from Marley and tugs at her hair to make herself presentable.

And even though her mother hovers around the kitchen for the rest of the night until she's fed – role reversal, eat your hear out – Marley keeps sending her these _looks_ and really, Santana shouldn't be shivering this much when it's not even that cold outside.

–

For some reason, Rachel fucking Berry decides to come back to Lima for her birthday. Something to do with her dads and their annual Breadstix dinner, but whatever, once again Santana gets a party out of it, so she's not complaining.

When Rachel calls her, she wants to make some snarky comment about how she'd never come back to this cowtown once she got her ticket out, but it dies on her lips as she realizes that well, she totally still secretly lives here now.

Thing is, when Rachel calls Santana on Sunday, she tells her to "bring somebody" if she wants, and though obviously the glee club is invited by proxy, the new kids don't know Rachel, and so there are some introductions that need to be made.

And well, she knows that she's going to want to be hanging around Marley for most of the night, anyway – because Quinn can't make it, the bitch, and Marley's really the only one there that she can stand individually for long moments. And also, Marley's going to need a ride to the party, and someone to introduce her to everyone, and there's really no better person that knows both Marley and Berry well enough to break the ice when Rachel's competitiveness starts acting up, so. Well, maybe there is a whole list of mutual friends that could do the very same thing, but Santana beats everyone at every job ever, so there's that.

And Santana can't stop thinking that maybe, she wants to bring Marley to this party, but also that maybe, she wants to bring Marley _with her_ to this party. She knows there's a big difference there, but just isn't sure what it is, right now, and which one would be best applicable to this situation.

As a girl who once asked the girl she has been sleeping with for years if they were dating, just to make sure, she can probably admit that she's fucking awful at this.

She's pretty sure though, no matter how fucking dense she is most of the time, that asking Marley something like that will change this very fragile... _thing_ that's happening with them right now, and she's just doesn't know how she feels about that idea.

So, she goes with the easy option and just decides not to do anything, because she's not fucking lame and doesn't spend her time wallowing about Rachel fucking Berry's birthday. She just won't go there.

Except that she does, and it's not fucking her fault at all that her brain just isn't wired correctly. That, or she really just needs to start reining in her subconscious in every now and a-fucking-gain.

They're doing yoga, just like every other normal fucking day, when Marley stretches her head back to face they ceiling, eyes closed and looking supremely pretty and serene, and Santana just blurts out, "Rachel Berry's birthday party is this weekend. Did you want to go with me?"

Marley's head whiplashes so fast in her direction that Santana is startled by the action even though she was watching her this whole time. And fuck you, stupid fucking mouth, Santana thinks.

"Because," Santana saves the situation, "I can give you a ride and you probably won't know a lot of people there – well, mostly Rachel, but she's a handful and I could introduce you, so. Yeah. I mean, we could drive together, if you wanted to."

Santana doesn't stop cringing for a second, but it doesn't seem to phase Marley, who just has this slow growing smile that spreads across her face. She nods, slowly, a quiet, "Yeah, that'd be nice" coming from her lips before she facing the television again, and biting her lip.

Santana spends the whole rest of the video in an agonizing silence, dreading the moment that comes at the end of tonight, using the whole half an hour to formulate that one dreaded sentence into something that doesn't sound and mean like what it does.

But when she gets to Marley's front door, the only thing she ends up with is, "Uh, eight?"

And of course Marley doesn't get what she means, obviously, because they're not conversing in mountain troll language, so then she's forced to say it, and she does it quickly as if it the pace could influence the connotation in any way.

"I'll pick you up at eight?" Santana asks. "Friday, I mean."

That slow smile graces Marley's features again, and she just nods. "Eight," she confirms, smiling shyly, and God.

What has Santana done?

–

The whole week is spent without another mention of Friday night during their workouts, so by the time it rolls around, Santana has no idea what to feel about it.

By the time she comes up with a plan, Marley's already walking up to her car, and so her last minute idea is: friendly outing. That's correct, right?

Right?

Santana is Marley's ride, and they're having a fun, friendly night out, and just because they've made a little in the past doesn't make it weird in any way.

Santana says this about three times in her head until Marley gets in the car, then just flashes Marley her best, calm smile, and then they're off.

"You look nice," Marley says, and Santana almost crashes the car.

When she's calmed down, she replies, "Thanks. Got to show Berry that I'm still pretty fucking awesome and nothing's changed in the time she's been away, you know?"

Marley laughs at this, and then they're fine, tension's broken, and they're just hanging out. This is just a normal night, Santana reminds herself.

Finn answers the door, and ew.

"Marley! Santana! Come in."

"I was planning on it, thanks."

The look on Finn's face is priceless, and so is Marley chuckling quietly at Santana's side.

"Let's go get something to drink," Santana tells her, and then they head to the kitchen before greeting the others.

Santana hands Marley a solo cup and takes her own, and shoots Marley down when she wants to decline.

"No one's spiking your drink again," Santana says. "Just relax, I'm driving you home anyway, you'll be fine. I'll watch out for you, deal?"

"Deal," Marley says, taking the cup with a roll of her eyes, and wow, she's spent way to much time with Santana, judging by that.

They head to the partygoers and make small talk, and then it's finally time for the New Rachel to meet the Old. After being a bit dubious at first – anyone that threatens Rachel's talent falls into the crossfire, naturally, but upon finding out that Marley had a good two years left in school before becoming a threat she was golden – Rachel falls in love with Marley as soon as she realizes Marley is too nice to tell her to shut up while she endlessly drones on and on about Broadway and Streisand.

Taking this as an incentive to torture Marley a bit, she grabs Marley's cup and says, "Refill," before making to leave. Marley wants to come with, but Santana tells her and Rachel that she'll be right back, they need to get acquainted, and it's all Santana can do not to laugh at the horrified look on Marley face at the thought of being left alone with Rachel.

In the kitchen, she just finishes mixing when she hears a soft, "Hey," and looks up to see Brittany leaning against the doorway.

Santana sighs. "Hi."

Brittany walks over to her and hands her another cup. "Can you make my favourite for me? The one with the extra–"

"Extra lime, I know," Santana takes the cup and start mixing.

Brittany hovers at her side, and Santana huffs. Brittany gets the hint, and goes to the point. "You've been really quiet lately."

"Haven't had much to say," Santana says dismissively.

"Santana," Brittany admonishes, then says, softly, "You slept with me."

"Yeah," Santana shrugs. "And you slept with me. We do it all the time. And then we move on, so." Santana hands Brittany her finished drink. "Let's move on."

"But I–"

"Britt."

Brittany hangs her head. "I can't stop thinking about you," Brittany admits softly.

"Britt," Santana says again. "It didn't... It didn't feel right. You know that."

"But I miss you," Brittany says, and stalks closer again, just like on Santana's birthday.

"Brittany, not again, okay," Santana says, placing a hand on Brittany's chest to keep her from coming closer. "We can't do this every time we need to tell each other something," Santana whispers.

Brittany moves closer regardless. "We can," she says. "We can do anything, it's our rules."

"Brittany," Santana says, softly.

And then Brittany moves in to kiss her, slowly, but before she can Santana turns her head away, and thank whoever fucking pumped that burst of willpower in her veins, because it was anything but easy.

"Those rules don't apply anymore," Santana says, and then Brittany pulls back, lets go.

She watches Santana for a minute, trying to read her, and Santana just shakes her head. Brittany nods, then takes her drink and leaves.

Santana takes a deep breath and walks out with her and Marley's drinks, putting on her game face. Momentary lapse in the proceedings, Santana thinks, the night is still young.

When she gets to Rachel, Marley is gone. Rachel tells her that Marley left for the bathroom, and last she saw her was with Unique.

Unique is dancing with Tina and hugs Santana upon seeing her. "Hey girl," she says.

"Hey yourself," Santana says, because she didn't even know she and Unique were on hugging terms, but there you go. "Where's Marley?"

Unique looks confused. "Oh, she just left."

"Left?"

"Yeah, she just came to say goodbye. I was like, 'Girl, you just got here'. But maybe she wasn't feeling good."

"What?" Santana says, more to herself, then hands the two drinks over to Tina and Unique before hurrying out the front door.

She gets halfway down the block before spotting Marley walking with her head hung and arms crossed.

"Marley!"

Marley turns around and sees Santana, but then just turns around and continues down the road, and what the fuck?

"Marley! Wait up!"

Santana catches up to Marley, who doesn't stop walking, and then goes to stand in front of Marley, forcing her to come to a halt.

"What do you want, Santana?"

Marley's never taken that tone with her before, and Santana doesn't know for the life of her what just changed in the span of like, five minutes.

"Where are you going?" Santana asks, because that seems like the simplest thing right now.

"Home," is all Marley says, and then she's off again.

"Wait a minute," Santana says, running next to her and stopping her again. "What's wrong?"

Marley stops, arms crossed and looking everywhere but at Santana.

"Why did you bring me here, Santana?"

"What do you mean?" Santana asks. "Rachel invited you. It's a glee club party. Everyone's here."

"No," Marley says, "why did _you_ bring me here?"

And it's in that moment that Santana realizes that this whole time, Marley has probably been seeing right through her.

"Oh," Santana says. "Well, I... I mean, I just, I like spending time with you. I thought it'd be nice."

"Awesome," Marley says, and Santana's never heard her voice filled with so much malice. "Well, if that's all, I'll just be going."

"Marley," Santana says, "Stop it. Why are you acting like this?"

"It doesn't even matter," Marley says. "Please leave me alone. I'm sure Brittany's waiting for you."

"Brittany?" Santana asks, but then realized Marley's moved again. "Marley, can you just stop for a minute?"

When she gets to Marley, she can see a tear track running down one side of Marley's face, and shit.

"Marley..."

"I'm fine, Santana," Marley says snidely. "I though we were– I get it now, okay? I saw you kissing in the kitchen, so it's fine. Just let me go home."

Oh, Santana thinks. That.

"We weren't kissing."

"I saw–"

"She tried to kiss me, I turned away. You didn't see the whole thing." Santana doesn't even know why she needs to be explaining this to Marley, but something at the back of her mind tells her that it's important that she does.

Marley looks down, quiet for a moment, then looks up again. In a small voice, she asks, "What are we even doing here?"

Santana's heart sinks, and it's the last thing she wants to do to pretend that she doesn't know what Marley means by that, and so the only thing she can think of doing is be honest. "I... Marley... I... I don't know."

Marley nods and wipes at her eyes. "Sorry."

Santana shakes her head and steps closer to Marley. She puts her hands on Marley's arms and tries to get Marley to look her in the eye. "I... I like you, Marley. I just, I don't know, okay?"

"Well, I don't either, so."

Santana likes to think that she knows Marley pretty well by now, and so she's almost sure that Marley just sounded bitter.

They just stand there for a moment, and Santana doesn't know what to say, never does, in moments like these. Instead, she moves in closer to Marley, pulls Marley toward her, because they've been better a not-talking, lately.

She hugs Marley for a long moment until Marley relaxes against her, and then there's arms winding around her shoulders, and Marley's pressing back. When she's sure they're okay, she pulls back, but not before placing a small kiss against Marley's temple.

"Can I ask you something?" Santana asks, still standing with her hands circling Marley's middle. Marley nods against her. "What about Jake?"

Marley pulls back and stares at Santana. "Jake?"

"Or Ryder," Santana amends. "I just, I don't know which one won out, in the end."

She meant it to sound half-amusing, but Marley's just frowning at her, and so now she's confused as well.

"What are you talking about?" Marley asks slowly.

"Jake or Ryder," Santana repeats, "did you end up choosing one?"

"Santana, I haven't spoken to either of them in months. I mean..." Marley trails off. She lets go of Santana and looks away. "I mean, I... I chose _you_."

Oh.

Okay.

Santana's mind is just blank, then.

She looks up to find Marley staring at her, and she feels like she's frozen.

"Marley..." Santana starts, but Marley shakes her head.

"Can I ask _you_ something?" Marley asks. Santana nods. "Why did Brittany kiss you?"

Shit. Well, c'est la vie, Santana thinks. She wanted to be honest, so.

"We..." Santana starts. "I... Er, we, er, slept together a while ago. It, er, it didn't mean anything, it was a heat of the moment thing, but she wanted to talk about it, I guess. But we're not really good at that, so I think that's why."

Marley looks hurt, for some reason, and fuck.

Santana's messed this one up so badly that she doesn't know where to begin thinking about it. She's just so fucking thick, she can't even deal with herself right now.

"Okay," Marley says softly, almost looking like she's trying to pull herself together in a way. "When was a while ago?"

Santana hasn't seen heartbreak many times in her life – mostly in Brittany and in the mirror – but when she answers, "On my birthday," she swears she sees it once more.

"Your birthday?" Marley asks. "But that was... Oh my God," Marley chuckles, but there's no joy in it at all. She shakes her head and backs away. "I'm so stupid."

And then she's gone, disappearing around the corner, and Santana doesn't think she should go after her, this time.


	4. Part 1: Something's bound to begin

One of the greatest things about being back in Lima is – surprisingly – that Santana is within close distance of one Mr Sandy Ryerson.

This means that in times like these, where Santana's whole world turns to shit, that a nice packet of 'Chronic Lady' is never too far away.

Just the thought of Marley makes her body ache right now, and where usually that ache was a very nice hum at the back of her mind whenever the thought of little Rose popped up, it is now something that shoots down to her chest and beats the shit out of that fucking pumper down there, in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.

So, drugs.

Except that when she gets to Ryerson's new workplace – now an elementary school, who the fuck allowed that to happen – he quickly pushes her out of school grounds as he exits the building. Walking her down the sidewalk, he says that he's managed to get on his last warning at this place, too, so he hasn't dared stock up on some chronic lately.

"But come by in summer," he says, "I'll be taking some money baths again."

And fuck, Santana's not even going to be here come summer, and that thought brings up another hundred thoughts of Marley, and then fuck. Santana just about keeps herself from going Lima Heights on Ryerson out of mere frustration, but then pulls herself together long enough to simply flip him the bird before walking away briskly.

She's fucked, now, because it's not like Puck's around either, and she's not in any mood to be asking around for any random ass number and meeting some pathetic bitch in some back-alley somewhere, so whatever.

Santana's got two options, exercise and release some endorphins – which, not right now, thanks, because of the plateau of memories that will arise if she does – and eating a lot of chocolate to salve her feelings with endorphines – which, fucking no, thanks, because she's not about to ruin this body she has been slaving on for so many years.

So, basically, the only other option, which somehow repulses her even more than the previous two, would be _talking_ about her feelings. And _ugh_, she may have done a bit better with the whole feelings thing in high school, but that was when she had a best friend to talk to and everything flowed a bit more smoothly.

At that, Santana perks up, because yes, she does actually have a best friend she can like, well, _talk_ to – oh, that sounds so awful, when she thinks of it like that – that she can _consult_ – there, much better. Because they've always been three, though of course sometimes Santana's mind was so filled with Brittany that Quinn was often forgotten in times of crisis.

But like it's always been, she's there whenever Santana needs her, and it takes only three rings for Quinn to pick up the phone.

"You've got Fabby," Quinn jokes, and Santana nearly falls off her chair.

When she's recovered, she says, "That just made my day, Q."

"I live to please," Quinn says, and Santana knows she's smiling. "What can I do for you?"

"Just checking when your next trip to Dreary Lane is," Santana asks. "Hoping we could, you know. Like, catch up, or whatever the fuck. Didn't really get the chance to thank you for my awesome birthday party."

"Everything alright?" Quinn asks hesitantly.

"Duh" Santana rolls her eyes. "Why would you ask that?"

"Santana, I've known you longer than anyone in my life, let's be real here," Quinn answers. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

The line stays silent, and Santana knows Quinn won't budge.

"Fine," Santana relents. "I just... I, uh, was wondering if we could like, you know. Like talk, or something, if that's cool with you."

"God, and somehow people actually _feared_ that mouth back in the day," Quinn replies, voice smug.

"Fuck off," Santana replies easily.

"I do commend you though, wanting to talk things out like an adult, for a change."

"Oh, please," Santana says. "Flattery is obsolete – the only reason I'm calling is because Ryerson isn't selling dope anymore and Puck isn't around as a back-up, so. Talking, I guess."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" Quinn asks. "I'll bring some down with me."

And, has she mentioned how much she fucking _loves_ this new Quinn?

–

Let it be known, for the record, that trying to talk to the problem itself, namely Marley, hasn't helped a bit.

Santana's been calling and texting in vain, and Marley's doing her best to make sure that she doesn't have to be near Santana, like, ever.

Obviously, the first thing Santana did Monday morning after the party was, stupidly, trudge over to Marley's house, ready to jog. Perhaps she had hoped that they could still exercise and ignore the obvious, as they always did, she's not quite sure. Whatever it is, she knew she just wanted to see Marley.

(What she would have done when she did, God only knows, but that was the plan, anyway.)

But when she knocked on the front door, there was a few minutes of silence before Mrs Rose opened up, and shit, Santana almost fainted with nerves by then.

"Santana?" she asked, confused.

"Hi Mrs Rose," Santana said, trying to keep everything kosher. "Marley up yet?"

"Uh," Mrs Rose continued in that confused tone, "she's already left, I thought she was running with you?"

Of course, Santana thought, and thank goodness for her quick mouth.

"Oh, yeah," Santana said, putting a hand up to her cheek and faking surprise. "I'm totally late, I forgot we were going earlier today."

"Alright," Mrs Rose said, usual jovial disposition back intact. "I'll let her know when she comes back."

"I'll just text her, thanks!" Santana shouted back, already halfway to her car.

It wouldn't even have helped if Santana drove around looking for Marley, because Marley knows this town so much better than her with all her exploring, it's insane.

Monday night was spent chilling at Marley's hill, and Tuesday evening was a terrifying experience alone at Marley's treehouse, but the girl didn't show up to either, though Santana knew she was just grasping at straws.

And now it's Wednesday night, and Santana has nowhere to go, nothing to do save for the promise of Quinn coming down soon, and so she stares at her phone, hoping for Marley to call until she falls asleep.

–

With Thursday comes a revelation.

Santana wakes up and spends a good hour brainstorming. She just needs to be near Marley for, like, _two_ seconds to explain things – how she'll do that she's not quite sure yet, but whatever.

So, she needs a place where Marley will surely be and can't run away from her, where Santana can call some shots and get Marley alone.

And fuck, why did she even need an hour to realize this? Santana calls an oaf, who picks up while still half asleep.

"Wake up," Santana greets. "It's nine in the fucking morning and you're a working man."

"Huh?" a voice blurts, and God Santana's eyes can not roll any higher right now.

"So, when you having another mentor day, Finnocence?" Santana asks sweetly, and before getting an answer, adds, "Awesome, see you this afternoon."

And then she ends the call.

–

Mr Schue tells her that her coming there is a real treat for the kids – well, duh – especially since Mercedes and Mike just spent a few lessons with them too and they could always do with some more graduate encouragement before regionals.

And well, Santana can't even pretendto be hurt by Mercedes not giving her a heads up when Santana's been hiding in this town for months herself, but, you know. Bitch could have least called.

Anyway, that doesn't deter her from the task at hand – which Mr Shue thinks is preparing for regionals, but joke's on him – when she's about to see Marley in ten minutes.

Finn briefly greets her with a hug – gross, though she's missed the fucker being around for her to slam him down every now and then – and then leaves Santana to sit in Mr Shue's office, drenched in nostalgia.

And then she hears a faint, "Hi," behind her, and turns to see Brittany coming in and closing the door.

"Hey," Santana greets, because somehow, being in this place is numbing her aversion to all things Brittany.

Brittany sits down opposite her and they just stare at each other for a moment. It's weird, to say the least.

"Finn told me I could find you here," Brittany says at last.

Santana laughs, for some reason, just cause it's Finn, and Brittany joins in too. But then the laughter dies down, and Santana sighs, because, well. She really, _really_ misses this side of them.

She observes Brittany for a moment, the slight red on her cheeks, how uncomfortable she, too, is around Santana now, and realizes that she's been selfish, somehow, taking all her frustration out on Brittany.

"Britt," Santana starts, tentatively. "Do you think... Would it be okay if I came over to yours sometime and we can, er, talk, a bit?"

Brittany seems startled by Santana's kind tone, and wow, Santana really has been a bitch.

She nods slowly. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Santana nods back. Brittany stands up and Santana does too. Watching her like ice about to break, Brittany slowly comes closer until she's hugging Santana, and Santana just relaxes into it.

Being Brittany, she makes things lighter for Santana for the first time in a while when she jokes, "And I promise not to jump you or anything."

Santana just laughs into Brittany's shoulder and lets go.

"Come on," Brittany says. "Practice is about to start."

"You go ahead," Santana says, thinking that it would be a bad start with Marley if she were to walk in with Brittany at her side.

"I get it," Brittany says. "Grand entrance?"

Santana chuckles. "You got it."

Brittany smiles and waves before she leaves the room, and Santana's already feeling more positive when she thinks that soon, she and Brittany might find a way to communicate that is not having sex.

A good a day for amends as any.

–

But Marley's face, when Santana walks in the room, is nothing what she wanted it to be.

Her eyes widen and jaw goes slack, and she just frowns, watching Santana with a hurt expression. Then Santana sees her eyes flick over to Brittany, instantly, and of course Brittany's watching her with this big smile that's a direct cause of being elated at the prospect of fixing their friendship someday.

That misinterpretation costs Santana dearly for the rest of the motown-themed lesson, when Marley ignores her when she talks about their past efforts at regionals, and looks everywhere but her when she sings a tuned up version of a Temptations song about _sorry_ being a sorry word.

What else costs Santana is her inability to think things through. Since she's the only mentor present for the lesson, everybody can't pair off and they don't get any alone time.

And before she knows it, the lesson is over and Marley's walking through the door.

But luckily for Santana – and unfortunately for Marley – Santana knows this school like the back of her hand, and so when Marley turns left toward the auditorium, Santana goes straight on to intercept Marley when she rounds the next corner.

It works, too, and before Marley knows it, she's being pulled into the janitors closet and the door's closed behind her.

"What the–" Marley starts, but then Santana turns the light on, and Marley just stares at her in shock. "Santana."

"Hi."

Marley's blank look has now turned to one of icy proportions, and Santana realizes that she needs to make this quick.

Problem is, she never _really_ thought she'd get this far, and so now she doesn't know what to say.

"Er, can we– I mean, we're talking," Santana stutters. "Okay, you're listening. You're listening, yeah?"

Marley just nods, now confused, and Santana takes a deep breath.

"Listen," Santana continues, "I just... I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize... I'm sorry."

"What do you want with me, Santana?" Marley asks, harshly.

And well, Santana guesses she can says sorry all she wants, but unless she knows the answer to that question, it's all for nothing.

"I..." Santana starts, but then just hangs her head. Fuck her life.

Marley looks down and nods, as if Santana answered her anyway, and Santana realizes that maybe she just did. Dejected, Marley turns and reaches for the door, and Santana sticks her own hand out just in time to wrap her hand around Marley's wrist.

"I'm late for English," Marley says.

"Please, Marley," Santana breathes, then walks closer and puts her other hand on Marley's hip. "_Please_ can we just hang out for a bit? Let's just go running, okay? Nothing has to–" Santana sighs. "I miss you," she finishes lamely, in a voice close to a whisper.

Marley breathes in, and just when Santana thinks Marley's going to lean back into her touch, she shakes loose instead, shakes her head and leaves the closet.

Santana sinks back against the shelf and rubs her hand over her cheek, innerly chastising herself for royally fucking that one up, again.

But then her phone goes off and she starts, before picking the thing out of her pocket. And luckily it's Quinn texting her to tell her she's coming over tonight, so at the very least, Santana might see an early end to an exhausting week.

–

Quinn's deft fingers roll like a pro, and Santana refrains from commenting in fear of pissing off her closest source for weed.

At Santana's request, Quinn has entertained her with stories of Yale while walking all the way to Marley's treehouse – yeah, kind of a dick move, but after stalking the thing for a week Santana's sure Marley doesn't visit the place that often – but now they're at the top and the Yale topics have ran thin and Quinn is doing that thing where she's just silently working on something and calmly waiting for Santana to tell her what's wrong.

And Santana knows this game, it's the one Quinn's forced her to play since middle school, and so she just sits and waits for her joint, trying in vain not to think of Marley, for fear of Quinn reading it all on her face.

But of course, staring at the view of Lima is not fucking helping that at all, and so when Quinn lifts up the spliff to light it, Santana decides to rip off the band aid and just kind of blurts out, "So, I've kind of been having this thing with Marley."

And Quinn actually visibly fucking jerks at the news, and Santana would have laughed if in the process, Quinn hadn't dropped the joint and the treehouse was now in fear of being burned down.

After a few panicked seconds of scurrying round with a string of _shit, fuck_s coming from them both, Santana manages to snatch the still burning thing off the ground and steal it for herself, taking a desperate drag.

Quinn's still just watching her with her jaw hanging open and Santana ignores her and focuses on the life-saver sat between her fingers.

"Did you just say, _Marley_?" Quinn asks.

"I said _Marley_," Santana nods.

"Marley," Quinn repeats.

"Are you fucking deaf or just brain dead?"

Santana hasn't been so harsh with Quinn for a long time, and so Quinn frowns for all about two seconds before laughing, and Santana can't help but chuckle with her. Yup, and this is why some spliff was needed.

"Well, shit," Quinn says, then settles back into the pillows, starting to roll another joint since Santana claimed the first one. "I wanna hear _all_ about this."

Santana just rolls her eyes and takes another deep drag, blowing it out of her nose before obliging Quinn's request, telling all up until the extraordinarily bitter end. By the time she's finished, they're onto their third joint and lying down on their backs, looking at the worn roof.

"So, what are you going to do?" Quinn asks.

"If I had known that I wouldn't be sitting with you in a treehouse and busting up my lungs."

"Okay," Quinn says slowly, "so..."

"Ugh," Santana says, rubbing a hand across her face. "I don't know, alright? Why is it so wrong not to know?"

"It isn't," Quinn affirms, "but why don't you? Are you scared or something?"

Santana sits up, because Quinn just lost track of things, and maybe being _this_ baked wasn't doing her any favours, either.

"I'm just, like, confused about how quickly things happened, okay? The fuck would I be afraid of?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that she'll say," Quinn puts a lilt in her voice, "_thanks for telling me, Santana! That's so nice! But I love Artie, so. Bye!_" Quinn giggles at her own joke, and then adds, in a normal voice, "Or, you know, Ryder or brother Puck or whatever."

Alright, so, maybe Quinn isn't _too_ off track, but still. Santana sits still for a long time and stares at the smoke rings Quinn blows out.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Santana says. "Come August months from now I'm leaving Lima and not looking back, and then nothing here will matter."

Quinn frowns. "But five months is an awfully long time to be around someone you clearly want this much, Santana."

Santana lets out a deep breath. "I guess," she whispers.

The finish one more spliff in silence, then laughs through their attempts to climb down the tree unscathed, not having thought this far when they were getting high as kites. Quinn almost slips but manages to survive the episode – thank God, Santana is much too young and pretty for prison – and they walk back slowly, trying to sober up a bit before they get to their houses.

When the Fabray house comes in sight, Quinn speaks up. "I think you should talk to her."

Santana snorts. "Tried that, got the t-shirt. No, wait, went to crazy lengths like calling the giant lump in order to do that, and got the t-shirt. I think it's clear that she doesn't want to talk."

Quinn shakes her head. "It sounds like she wants to talk to you, just that you don't know what to say." Santana rolls her eyes at Quinn's attempts to be sage. "But no," Quinn continues, "I meant that I think you should talk to Brittany."

Santana chuckles. "If you haven't been paying attention, talking to Brittany is what's gotten me into this mess in the first place."

"Talking, not fucking," Quinn says, giving Santana's arm a squeeze and then walking up her driveway. "Can't open another chapter if you haven't finished the first, Santana."

And seriously, what is with this kid? "You're not fucking Yoda, Quinn!" Santana shouts at her.

Without looking back, Quinn just sticks her middle finger up before entering her house, and God, Santana hates that girl.

(In a very loving way, of course.)

–

Instead of going home, Santana decides that it's a nice night, she's already out, and she may as well walk for just a little while longer. Why not swing by her bestie's place to, well, _close a chapter_, as Quinn so stupidly put it?

Outside, she sits on the neighbour's wall, an old meeting place that's hidden from view by many branches that hang over them, making it seem that, in the dark, they're sitting in what Brittany always called a 'tree-cave'. She sends a text asking Brittany asking if anyone's home, cause she's outside in said cave.

About two minutes later, Brittany comes through the kitchen's side door in her pajamas with Lord Tubbington held in her hands.

"Look, Tubbs!" she coos, "there's your favourite!"

Tubbington seems indifferent to Santana's presence, but she's had a lot of training in this field, and so she just scratches his chin and asks him, "Is that right, little guy?"

Brittany's smile is blinding, and Santana is happy she still has the sense to work around Brittany's eccentricities like this.

"Tubbs read your text before I did, and threatened to scratch me if I didn't take him out to see you, too. Just like the old days," Brittany says, sitting down next to Santana with the cat on her lap. "Though, I'm glad that unlike then, you didn't bring him any of what you just had because I'm pretty sure that he's finally got his smoking under control."

Brittany grins at her, mischievous, and Santana chortles because she still can't get anything past this girl.

"Guilty as served," Santana says. "Quinn's in town, so. Blame her."

"Quinn?" Brittany's jaw drops.

"Quinn," Santana confirms.

"Quinn Fabray?" Brittany asks again, and Santana laughs because of how similar both her best friends are, considering the reaction Quinn just had when Santana mentioned Marley.

"Little miss Yale, indeed."

"Wow."

Santana laughs again. "I know, right? Fucking Quinn."

Brittany laughs with her, and then Santana realizes – she's just survived a mini-conversation with Brittany.

A few moments of silence passes, before Brittany looks at her quizzically.

"I wanted to ask you something," Brittany says. When Santana nods, she says, "Why didn't you tell me you dropped out?"

Santana frowns. "How–"

"You know you can't hide things from me, Santana," Brittany says, only halfway serious. In a quieter voice, she adds, "Also, half of your things were back in your room, so. I kind of guessed the last part."

"Too much of a genius," Santana says, smiling. She sighs. "I just wanted to figure things out, on my own for a bit, you know?"

"Yeah," Brittany nods. "Have you?"

"No," Santana laughs. "Not even a little bit."

"Well, in the meantime, we have regionals next weekend, and I was wondering–"

"I wouldn't miss it," Santana interrupts.

Santana will always feel like she's part of the glee club, even now when she's not in it. Besides, she's not about to pass up any opportunity to see Marley, even if she has to endure Sam's presence to do it. Speaking of, there's a sudden lull in conversation, then, and Santana fidgets.

And since she doesn't really have anything else to talk to Brittany about, since they're so estranged, she forces on a friendly tone and says, "So, er, how's Sam, and, er, all that?"

Brittany chuckles. "Santana, we don't have to talk about him, okay? We're just starting. We have time."

"Okay," Santana says, silently relieved. Mostly, because she knows the favour won't be returned now, and she doesn't have to work on hiding anything.

Brittany watches her face for a quiet minute, and oh no, here comes the telepathy.

"Have you..." Brittany starts, looking like she's trying to find the right way of phrasing something. "Is there someone new, for you?"

It's too weird, talking about this with Brittany now. She looks at Brittany for two seconds – which she knows is long enough for Brittany to get her answer, anyway – and then just sighs.

"Er, yeah," Santana says, scratching her neck, awkward. "Kind of. I think. Not really, I guess, but well. I don't know. Maybe. I just–"

"Santana," Brittany says earnestly, putting a hand on Santana's and squeezing, "that's _wonderful_."

She just nods in response, looking down at their hands, and realizing how nice it is to have someone be there for her, understand her in the way Brittany does, and how much she missed it.

Which is only confirmed when a second later, Brittany adds, "When you're ready, I'd love to hear all about her."

Santana can't help it when a tear rolls down her cheek, and God, is she ever not going to be a fucking sap? Brittany gently puts Tubbington down on the ground, who just stands dead still on the cold grass, not used to feeling anything but carpet under his feet. It makes Santana laugh, and then she's cry-laughing, and dammit.

But it's okay, because as soon as Tubbs is settled, Brittany reaches over to hug her and Santana sees a bit of wetness on her cheeks, too, and maybe she wasn't overreacting to the moment at all.

"I missed you so much," Brittany says, and Santana buries her head in Brittany's neck.

"You're my best friend," Santana answers, and Brittany whispers the same back in her ear.

They break apart when Tubbington scratches violently at Santana's thankfully jean-covered shin. And after Brittany picks him back up, they just spend a few quiet moments petting him, remembering old times in their cave under the tree.

–

It's pretty sweet that regionals are held at McKinley this year, Santana's not going to lie.

It's the most convenient thing – like, convenient to the point that Santana merely has to walk over to the school, laughing at everyone around her scrambling for parking at worrying about being late.

Well, the heavens are definitely smiling down at her today. Things between her and Brittany are back to their normal bestie selves and she's about to see Marley soon. Hell, even Quinn is here after Santana's constant nagging for some company at regionals, and only Santana has the ability to ask that of Quinn two weekends in a row.

She's in the audience before she knows it, watching one mediocre performance followed by a stellar one, and then the New Directions come on, and it's something else entirely.

Santana doesn't know if it's just because she knows these people that she thinks they're amazing, or if she just thinks that solely because of Marley.

And it's like, Santana has seen Marley be quirky and funny and sweet, she's seen Marley broken and ashamed, and at times like when Marley's slowly stealing the fucking kitchen faucet from Santana via seduction, she's seen Marley be incredibly sexy. But Santana has never ever seen Marley truly be so in her element as on that stage.

Santana is entranced, sitting slack-jawed through the whole thing, until Quinn giggles next to her and jokingly presses a hand under Santana's chin and whispering something about catching flies. And even after that, she's still wholly engrossed in what's happening on stage, just watching the rest with a closed mouth instead.

It all goes down in a matter of minutes. The judges come back and envelopes are opened and of fucking course the New Directions blew the competition away so they're lifting their trophy while shouting and hugging each other.

When it's over, Santana stays there for long moments as the crowd filters out of the auditorium, sitting in a daze until Quinn's pulling her up. It's like Santana's walking on air when Quinn leads her over to the stage, mind still reeling, stumbling along like some kind of zombie. Quinn calls Mr Schue over, who lets them backstage without preamble.

And then they're being engulfed by the whole glee club who seem to be in one big, like, orgy hug. Quinn tugs Santana forward and then everybody is turning around to hug them and then each other again.

(God, Santana remembers very acutely exactly what this feels like, and fuck if she can even try to wipe the smile off her face while doing so.)

All Santana does, through all this commotion, is watch Marley as she's clinging to Unique, smile so bright it could light up a fucking stadium. Marley hasn't seen her yet, so Santana just creeps up behind her as she's moving from one person to the next, hugging them and saying something in their ear that Santana is sure is, "We made it!"

Marley must feel another person's presence behind her and probably thinks it to be a New Directions member, because she turns and blindly goes in for a hug, only to freeze when she realizes who it is.

"Santana," Marley breathes out, bringing her hands back to her sides.

"Hi," Santana says, hoarsely. She clears her throat. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Marley says, but her voice is devoid from emotion.

She nods at Santana and then makes to move away, but Santana blocks her before she can disappear again. Briefly, she sees Ryder frown at them from the other side of the room, which, well, this is an interesting opposite. But then Marley smiles to appease him, Joe jumps on him and once again he's distracted by the celebrations happening around him. Santana turns back to Marley, who isn't looking at her.

"You were..." Santana starts, but then truly struggles to find a suitable word for how jaw-droppingly amazing Marley was. "You were _so_ incredible up there, Marley."

"Thank you, Marley says again, just a hint of kindness present in her voise this time. She briefly smiles at Santana – though by now, Santana can tell that it's fake – and then disappears in the small crowd, and Santana just sighs.

She hears a loud, "Lopez!" behind her, and then Puck slides up next to her. Before she can even ask him why he's here, he says, "Of course I'd make the trip to see my little bro's big number, wouldn't I?"

Santana laughs and Quinn reappears at her side. She looks at Santana questioningly, having kept an eye out for Marley earlier, but Santana just shakes her head.

"And you brought a date," Puck jokes, looking at Quinn, who just rolls her eyes and grins. "All good and well too," Puck continues, "Now I can invite both you lovely ladies over to the after party courtesy of double-Puckerman."

"That's a horrid name," Quinn says.

"Who's going?" Santana asks.

"Everyone!" Puck shouts, and well, that's good enough for Santana.

She sees Marley at the other end of the room, talking to Tina. Quinn follows her line of sight, and smiles.

"Count us in," Quinn says.

–

Santana's at the party for about ten seconds when she realizes she's not picking up any signals on her Marley-radar.

At first, she thought she's just not spotting Marley due to the fact that she's been smoking non-stop with Quinn since they left regionals earlier that day. Quinn had convinced her that – although Santana didn't want to be high if she was going to be seeing Marley later – it would work wonders for her building stress, at least.

(Which is something she definitely needed since, while prepping for the party, _she_ was the one working on _Quinn's_ nerves, for a change, and that shit just isn't right.)

And so when Santana's been stressing out about seeing Marley again all day and it turns out she didn't pitch anyway... Well, it's a bit of an anti-climax, to say the least.

Sure, Santana still doesn't know what she's supposed to do about the situation, but there is one thing she does know – she's determined not to mess things up with Marley this time.

So this is what she does: hunts down Unique to pinpoint Marley' location, then leaves the fucking party in a flash.

–

Santana's mapped out a route.

There's a gutter running from the downstairs bathroom to the ivy covered brick wall that runs to Marley's bedroom window. Lucky for Santana, it's one of those walls where every second brick sticks out and gives her the perfect leverage to climb t.

She starts out by sliding a trashcan over and uses it to reach the gutter. From there, she lifts herself to the wall and then it's brick for brick, slowly making the way over to Marley's window.

And can she just say that doing this while being super baked deserves some kid of fucking award? Because fuck, the only thing going through her mind right now is _shit don't look down don't look down shit shit shit_ until there's a window and she's knocking and then all she can do is wait.

Marley's face appears just in time, because Santana's kind of getting frostbite on her fingers in the chilly night sky. She smiles when she sees Marley – and well, yeah, she always does that, but now it's more like, _Ha, where you gonna run to now, little Rose?_

The window opens and Marley leans out, whispering a harsh, "Santana! What are you doing?"

"You gonna let me in or what?" Santana bites out, cause her grip is not doing well and she's like five seconds away from breaking something crucial on her body, but it's not like she'd admit that, of course.

"Just..." Marley sighs. "Ugh."

And then she disppears again, and Santana almost has a heart attack. Until Marley comes back carrying a towel and holds it out of the window.

"Grab onto the ledge with one hand and I'll help pull you up with the other," Marley says. It all goes fine until Santana's upper body is through the window. Then she feels that she has nothing to step on to kick the lower half of her body through, at which point she just bursts out laughing because this is all too ridiculous for words.

Santana can only imagine what she looks like from outside, a mere pair of legs kicking out in every direction on the upper level on the side of the house.

Even Marley grins at the sight. At least, she did for a second there.

Santana pushes up and just throws her whole body forward, ending up falling on Marley who had just moved closer to help pull Santana in. This just makes Santana laugh harder, lying on her stomach next to Marley, barely able to breathe now.

"Shh, Santana, Marley whispers. "Shh, my mom's sleeping."

Santana brings it down to muted giggles, but only really stops laughing when she turns onto her back and sees Marley's dead-fucking-serious face. Santana's somehow maneuvered herself, in the turning process, to rest the back of her head in Marley's lap, who is just sitting with her legs crossed and staring down at Santana in turn.

God, even when upside down, Marley still looks freaking gorgeous.

"Santana, are you..." Marley narrows her eyes at Santana's own bloodshot ones looking back at her. "Are you _stoned_?"

Santana grins up at her. She lifts up her hand and makes a small gap between her thumb and forefinger. "Bit," she says.

Marley rolls her eyes and Santana wonders if it's good-natured or not. Either way, Marley just keeps staring at Santana, waiting.

Santana almost just says _I'm sorry_ again, but even she finds the idea stale by now. Instead, she just sighs, thinking about words, and how fucking awful and difficult they are.

"I've been a bit of a twat," Santana says instead, trying of a different version of _sorry_ instead. Marley's face stays stony, and Santana sighs. "Marley... I just– I'm hopeless at this stuff, okay? Like, the worst."

Marley fingers come up and strokes at Santana's hair, and Santana closes her eyes, the drugs together with Marley's touch making her feel at ease for the first time since, well, really since Marley walked away from her in that darkened street.

"I didn't realize," Santana continues, softly. "I thought that– Well, I don't know what I thought, but I guess that I just never expected that you would actually... you know?"

Marley nods, but takes her hands away, and Santana's left confused. Even more so when Marley completely looks away from Santana.

"I get it, Santana," Marley says, taking a deep breath. "It's okay, you can stop apologizing. I... It was wrong for me to force my feelings on you. Especially with New York looming." Marley rubs at her eyes. "Just because we... You shouldn't feel like you have to..."

Marley trails off and Santana sits up, even more lost than before.

"But can we..." Marley sighs. She clears her throat. "If you won't feel uncomfortable, could we – Would it be okay if we still stayed friends?"

Marley's looking down at her own hands in her lap, fingers fidgeting as she waits for Santana's response. She's going to be waiting a while though, because by now Santana is so thoroughly dumbfounded about what's going on that she can't even respond to it.

She's pretty sure she's entirely lost track of the fucking conversation as soon as Marley opened her mouth, but if there's one thing she does know, it's that the last thing she wants is to be Marley's fucking _friend_.

But if that's what Marley wants, Santana's not going to force her, because Santana may be many things, but a predatory gay isn't one of them.

"Yeah, okay," Santana says finally, trying and failing to make her voice stronger than it sounds. "Anything you want, Marley."

Marley nods and takes another deep breath before looking at Santana with another fake smile. Santana returns it and stands up, hoping that she doesn't look as awkward as she feels.

Marley stands up too, muttering something about seeing Santana out and Santana just nods, following Marley downstairs in silence.

Stepping into the cold night air, Santana looks back at Marley and can't tell what she's thinking at all. Then Marley steps forward and hugs Santana for a long moment.

"See you Monday morning?" Marley asks when she steps back. "I've missed my yoga partner." She chuckles weakly, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes, and all Santana can think is that it's fake, fake, so fucking fake.

"Deal," Santana says, but it's also halfhearted, and doesn't make Marley light up like it used to.

And then Marley nods and then front door's closing and Santana finds herself stumbling down the driveway, wondering what the fucking fuck just happened.

–

She gets about halfway down the block before she bursts into tears.

It's calm and quiet at first, but then her whole body is being shook by the force of the sobs that escape her.

She sits down on some random hedge, hands resting on her thighs and every now and then lifting it to wipe at her eyes. And all that resonates in her head is Marley voice saying _we can stay friends_ over and over again.

Santana isn't sure at what point she just got shot down in that fucked up idea of a talk, but she does know that it _hurts_. Like. Really fucking hurts.

She just can't make sense of it. She was so close to just telling Marley _something_ and then Marley drops this bomb on her and – has Santana just completely misinterpreted Marley's intentions this entire fucking time?

Santana thinks. She tries to make sense of it but she just can't. She's pretty fucking sure that she managed to get Marley to talk to her they would – in the event that Marley would forgive her for sleeping with Brittany – be on the brink of _anything_, but.

Apparently, she was wrong.

_We can stay friends. We can stay friends. We can stay friends._

_I get it, Santana. Just because we... We can stay friends._

_Friends. Friends. Friends._

_Wrong to force my feelings on you._

_We can stay friends._

Wait.

Santana sits and thinks for a few moments.

_It was wrong to force my feelings on you._

Minutes later, Santana's staring into space, tear tracks dried on her cheeks and hands clutched tightly in fists. Then she stands up and inhales deeply.

If her version of the worked out puzzle in her mind is correct, and she just lost her chance with Marley because of some tragically small misunderstanding... Well, then she's definitely not giving up yet.

And if Marley actually thought that Santana was leading into some speech to let her down softy – that just because Santana didn't notice Marley's feelings, that they aren't returned – then at least Santana can say that she's not the only daft one between them anymore.

So, after Santana wipes her face and pulls herself together, she marches right back where she came from and sends Marley a text to ask her to unlock the front door.

–

When Marley opens up, her eyes are just as red as Santana's must be, and _oh my God_, Santana thinks, they are both so fucking stupid.

"I take it back," Santana says, stepping into the house, closing the door behind her, startling Marley. "I don't want us to be friends."

Marley's eyes start to water and Santana just about hits herself.

"Not like that," Santana says, stepping closer. She wants to reach out and just touch Marley, somehow, but she doesn't. Not yet. "Listen, I wasn't just having fun with you. That's what you thought, didn't you? That I just didn't realize you felt something because I didn't care?"

Marley wraps her arms around herself, eyes not leaving Santana's this time. She frowns, but still nods.

"I do, though," Santana says, not being able to hold out any longer and putting her hand on Marley's arm. "And when I... What happened with Brittany," Marley looks away again, but Santana puts a hand on her chin, pulls her face back, looks her in the eyes and continues, "What happened with Brittany doesn't have anything to do with us. 'Cause I didn't even think that _we_ could be something. It's just– I'm a bit slow, okay?"

At this, the corners of Marley's mouth twitches up slightly, and Santana's never felt this level of relief in her whole life.

"A bit?" Marley says softly, and Santana smiles.

"Just a smidge," Santana answers, but then Marley turns serious again and Santana does too. "You asked me what I wanted with you," Santana says. "Well, I wanted to– If you do too, obviously– See, the thing is," Santana clears her throat, "I want to _try_, with you. Try this, us. To be with you."

It's quiet for a long time after that.

Marley just stares at Santana, eyes flicking back and forth between Santana's. And this is when Santana panics.

Like, here it comes, she's pretty sure of it. Any moment now, Jake or Ryder is going to swoop in from the darkened living room, grab Marley and go. Or even worse, Marley has finally realized just what an emotionally stunted bitch Santana really is and decided Santana's not worth her time at all, and is currently thinking of the nicest way she can tell Santana to kindly fuck off.

Or maybe, Santana just got it all wrong, after all – maybe Marley really just wants to be friends and Santana made the rest up in her mind. Maybe Marley doesn't want Santana like that at all, and she just totally misconstrued everything and came back here in vain and –

"What about New York?" Marley asks, and Santana lets out the breath she's been holding for the past two minutes.

"I don't know. We'll sort it. But Marley," Santana smiles, then paraphrases Quinn, that clever bitch, "five months is far too long a time to waste away around the person I want the most."

Marley bites her lip and Santana sees a cute tint of red adorn her ears. "You want to try?" she asks.

"Very much so," Santana answers, taking one last step to stand before Marley and putting her hands on Marley's waist.

Unwrapping her arms from around herself, Marley places her hands on Santana's shoulders. "Deal," Marley says simply.

And then Santana's kissing Marley, just standing there and holding her for minutes on end, and somewhere in the universe Santana feels a shift.

Somehow, she just knows her luck's about to change.

–

**End of part one.**

–

**Dear readers,**

**Thank you so much for sticking with this story and being so accommodating toward Martana! I adore this couple like whoa, and am glad to find some people who actually ships them too. **

**Just a heads up that part two will consist of two considerable chapters – which, fair warning, are both going to be incredibly indulgent in handling my OTP – and part three will be one final chapter that could, perhaps, serve as an epilogue. It should all be finished within the next month.**

**Thank you guys for reading!**

**x**


	5. Part 2: Lady peaceful

Marley Rose is an incredible friend.

But Marley Rose is also a super fucking fantastic girlfriend.

And sure, it's only been about a week since Santana almost fucked up and then finally succeeded in making Marley aware of her affections, but it's definitely more than enough time to tell that this is working out just swell.

Mostly, they've worked the same way they always do – exercising together, joking around, just hanging out with that comfortable familiarity that Santana only feels with about four people on earth. Only now, all their interactions have this underlying current of electricity in them, and every time Marley openly flirts with her – which she does a lot of, now – Santana feels a delicious tingle creep up her spine. And then, of course, there's the fact that Santana can now touch or kiss Marley whenever she wants, which is, well, yeah.

And lastly, now some of their friendly excursions can turn into dates. Like this one Santana is driving to now on this wonderful Friday evening. Marley thought they could spend the evening cooking, and Santana loves that they're still doing the things they love doing together, but now it's just about a thousand times better.

Like when Marley opens the door and her hair is slightly curled and she's dressed up a bit and looks fucking amazing. And when Santana gives her a sweet kiss in greeting and Marley smiles into her mouth and squeezes her hips. Or when Marley takes Santana's hand and leads her into the kitchen, where the proceed to chop and mix and move around each other so effortlessly and Santana delights in the domesticity of it all.

The best part comes when Santana's finished with her part and Marley skinning the potatoes. Santana puts her arms about Marley and holds her from behind – so reminiscent of the one time they've been in this position before, only now it's completely fucking intentional.

Santana pushes Marley's hair back and kisses Marley's shoulder, making her lean back into Santana, who doesn't stop until Marley puts down the knife and shifts in her arms. Marley tuns around and also wraps her arms around Santana's waist, and lifts her eyebrows in a way that asks, _Yes?_ Santana grins and cups Marley's face with her hands, kisses her once, twice, quickly swiping her tongue against Marley's lower lip before pulling away and smiling at the look of disappointment on Marley's face.

"You're very pretty," Santana says, caressing Marley's cheek with her thumb. "Have I ever told you that before? That I think you're gorgeous?"

Marley blushes a bit and shakes her head.

"Well," Santana continues, "you are. Your features are lovely."

Marley snorts. "Slow down, Shakespeare."

Santana pouts and Marley laughs before kissing it off her face. Marley turns back around and Santana just keeps on holding her as she works.

"Your features are lovely, too," Marley says, and Santana smiles into her neck before returning her lips to its surface.

It takes Marley about ten minutes to finish chopping those damned three potatoes, but it's totally fucking worth it.

–

Marley's mom comes home in the middle of dinner, causing them to reluctantly stop holding hands over the table.

They make small talk and watch a film together after dinner – but Santana can't really concentrate on what it's about when Marley's hand is resting on her thigh under the blanket thrown over them to hide their limbs from Mrs Rose.

Later, Marley's saying goodbye to Santana and, after sneaking a look back in the house to make sure her mother isn't around, kisses Santana long and slow.

Santana goes home with a spring in her step.

–

Marley's birthday is coming up, and Santana doesn't know what to get her. Sure, it's a full three weeks from now, but it's really never too early to stress out about these things, she guesses.

And Santana's bored, because Marley went to Columbus with her mom this weekend to visit their family, so right now it's the only thing she can think about.

She can't possibly do anything like the wonderful Aunty Snix shirt that Marley got her for her birthday, and they weren't even properly together then, so. She also doesn't want to throw a lot of money at Marley, because first of all that's fucking tacky and second, it's not like Marley doesn't know Santana is well off, so Santana knows that an expensive gift won't mean as much as something thoughtful.

Which would be grand, if she only had the ability to _think_.

Santana calls Quinn, who laughs as soon as Santana lets her know about the predicament, and Santana puts the phone down in her ear. Quinn calls back and Santana sighs as she picks up.

"Okay, Santana, I'm sorry," Quinn says. "It's just, you're fucking hilarious when you get all in a tiff about small relationship things. Fucking bad-ass Lopez. Are you ever not going to be ridiculously whipped by every girl you date?"

"Fuck off," Santana says. "You gonna help me or what?"

"Fine. What about a book?"

"I'm not buying _you_ a present, ass."

"Chocolates?"

"Too cheap."

"Jewelry?"

"Too contrived."

"A fucking mix tape then, Santana, I don't know your girlfriend. What does she like?"

"Me, duh."

"Classy."

"And music, I guess. She loves singing."

"Oh my God, you really are dating the nice new version of Rachel."

"Jesus Christ."

Santana puts the phone down again, and shuts it off for good measure.

Then she drives over to her other _bff_'s house and knocks on the door.

"Hey San," Brittany says easily, hugging her. "What's up?"

"You in the mood for some shopping?

–

"Santana," Brittany says after walking around aimlessly for about twenty minutes. "You've passed like, ten clothing shops already. Are you blind or sick?"

Santana sighs and pulls Brittany over to a stand, where they wait in line so Santana can buy them both some coffee.

"I'm not here to shop for me," Santana says.

"Oooh," Brittany squeals, clapping a bit. "A present?"

Santana chuckles. "Yes, Brit, a present."

Brittany squeals again. "Awesome. Who for?"

Santana looks down. "Remember when you, er, when you asked me about, er, someone else?"

"Yes," Brittany says slowly, but Santana can see that she's holding back an expression of pure joy in fear of scaring Santana away.

"Well," Santana says, "It... Well, things worked out, so."

"Santana!"

Then Brittany's hugging her and picking her up, twirling her around a bit before Santana squirms out her grip, laughing.

"I'm so happy for you, San," Brittany says, and it's all one hundred percent honesty. "Can I know who it is yet?"

"Well," Santana hesitates. "I... I don't know. It's early, like, it's only been two weeks kind of early. I don't know how she feels about... I think I'm the first girl she's ever... So, I don't think it's up to me to, well, out her or whatever."

Santana holds back that Quinn knows, but Quinn's in another state and not in Marley's freaking glee club, so. Santana also told Marley about that whole Quinn episode when they were talking things out, the day after the night Santana came to Marley's house, and she was fine with that, so that's all that matters to Santana.

"Okay," Brittany says jovially. "What's she like?"

"Sweet," Santana answers, because that's always the first thing that she thinks about when she pictures Marley. "Kind. And, well, yeah. She makes me very happy."

Brittany puts a hand on Santana's shoulder. "I'm happy that you're happy," she says kindly.

Then they're first in line and getting their coffees, and after just one sip Santana already feels refreshed and more than ready for this challenge.

"Okay," she says as they're walking through the shops again. "What's the best gift I've ever gotten you?"

"Hmm," Brittany says, looking at the ceiling. "Ummm. Maybe, no. Oh! Of course – the unicorn plush toy that's on my bed."

"Why?"

"Because it was something that's very me, and also, something that's very like you to give me. Like, it's both like you and me, because I know that you were thinking of me first when you bought it."

Santana takes another sip of coffee. That makes sense, in a way, and Santana can't help but think of the shirt Marley got her, and how it's something that means a lot to the both of them.

"Well," Santana says finally, "that doesn't make this easier at all."

Brittany laughs and hooks her arm through Santana's.

"Come along then," she says, pulling Santana in the opposite direction.

–

Brittany takes her into a lot of shops that Santana would never set foot in if she were alone.

Well, Santana doesn't really enter any shop that doesn't have clothes, jewels or make-up in it, so go figure.

It's all these obscure little market places with the strangest trinkets and random shit strewn about, and though everything is wholly interesting, there's been nothing that has really grabbed Santana's attention so far.

She's almost lost faith by late afternoon, but Brittany stays positive for the both of them, and well, it's always been like that between them, that's why they balance each other out so well.

Especially because, at Brittany's insistence, they visit one last type of craft shop before they need to leave, one final chance. And it's there that Santana sees it.

There's a pendant hanging off the far side of the back wall amongst several others, but it catches Santana's attention as soon as she enters the shop. Judging by the price, it must be some type of sturdy metal that's been manipulated to a bronze-like colour to fit a similar coloured chain.

The pendant is a single music note, not too big, not too small, just perfect. It's beautiful in its simplicity, just like it's future owner. Santana doesn't even hesitate before taking it to the cashier.

When she finds Brittany after buying it, whose strolling around another part of the shop, she smiles and holds up the packet.

"Oh, let me see!" Brittany says. She pulls it out of the packet as they're walking back to the car. "It's so pretty."

"Yeah," Santana smiles. She unlocks her car, but before she can walk to the driver's side, Brittany puts a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Santana," Brittany asks seriously, looking at the necklace still in her hand, but for some reason Santana can see a hint of mirth in her eyes. "Are you dating Rachel Berry?"

"Oh my fucking God."

–

Monday morning Marley launches herself into Santana's arms as soon as she sees her, and they spend a few minutes kissing on the secluded side of Marley's house before going on their run.

"Hmm," Santana says when Marley pulls away. "Missed you."

"Me too," Marley says, giving Santana one last kiss before pulling her over to the road.

They start at a slower pace, because they've recently increased their length and it's going well for them. Santana thinks that they should totally double team in a marathon soon, cause they'd kick everyone else's ass.

"How was Columbus?" Santana asks.

"Good. The family is still okay, and it was nice seeing some of my cousins."

"You miss them?"

"Yeah. But I think being away makes it more special when we get to see each other." Marley smiles and looks at Santana with a smirk. "Plus, it's not all bad, Lima has grown on me quite a bit, you see."

Santana smirks back. "Has it, now?"

"Uh-huh," Marley says, then looks in front of her again. "What did you do all weekend?"

"Not much," Santana says. "Called Quinn. Went shopping with Brittany. Tried to fix my future."

Marley laughs. "How's that going?"

"Some things are better left unsaid," Santana answers. "Though other present things are definitely shaping up," she adds, echoing Marley's earlier sentiment with another smirk.

"Has it, now?" Marley repeats cheekily, and it's all Santana can do to pull her off the street and kiss her senseless behind some random big ass tree.

–

Marley's birthday is a subdued affair, partly due to the fact that it's on the Wednesday before nationals and everybody's either stressing out with rehearsals or packing to go to Los Angeles.

But it's mostly because Marley isn't one for big parties, at least, not in terms of hosting them herself, and she has mentioned many times that she'd rather just spend it with Santana and her mother having a nice quiet dinner at home. Which they do, and after their stuffed and happy, Marley takes Santana over to the treehouse and there they have some of Mrs Rose's awesome cupcakes for dessert.

Santana's leaning on some cushions on the back wall so that she can still see the view, and Marley's sitting between her legs, lying back into her with her head resting on Santana's shoulder. Santana kisses it once, then again, and then Marley's squirming and Santana chuckles, running a hand over Marley's stomach.

"I have something for you," Santana whispers in her ear.

"Yeah?" Marley says, but doesn't move an inch.

"Yup," Santana says, sitting up and reaching for her bag.

Marley sits up too and turns on her side, so that when she looks up she can see Santana's face. Santana pulls out the wrapped pendant and hands it over.

"Happy birthday, Marley," Santana says.

Marley smiles and kisses Santana's jaw, and after Santana pushes the gift further in her hand, takes the hint and opens it.

Santana watches her face closely when the pendant is revealed, and is relieved to see a look of awe cross her face.

"Santana," she whispers reverently, "this is... I... Thank you so much."

She leans up and kisses Santana, deeply, so fucking deeply, and Santana can't even breathe and all she can see and think and feel is _Marley_.

When Marley finally pulls back, she sits up a bit and hangs the chain around her neck.

"Perfect," Santana whispers.

Marley leans back onto Santana. "I'm going to pack this super carefully and wear it as my good luck charm for regionals." Marley sighs. "I wish you could come with us."

The glee club is leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow and only coming back next week. Santana is a bit bleak that she's missing out on seeing the awesome town since she needs to save money for New York, but even more so she's bleak that she won't get to see Marley perform.

"Me too, sweetheart," Santana breathes out. "But when you come back we'll watch the videos together and you can tell me all about it. And I want you to text me as soon as you win, okay?"

Marley chuckles. "Deal."

Santana kisses Marley's temple and they spend the rest of the evening watching the view in silence, until the regretfully need to get home and make sure Marley gets enough sleep for her trip.

–

For the next three days, being completely by herself, Santana does some serious work in brainstorming her future.

She looks at colleges, she looks at jobs, she reads success stories, and she also spends hours lost on Wikipedia reading about shit that she'll never ever fucking use in her entire life.

By Friday, she thinks she's got a plan.

At least, she hopes so.

–

On Saturday afternoon, Santana sees two texts on her phone.

The first is from Marley, who just says, _You are now dating a national champion xxx_

She texts back, _What did Mila Kunis win this time? ;)_

To which she just receives a hilarious, _I'll look past that text only because of the pure 'glee' I'm feeling right now. Hah, get it? :)_

And then Santana simply replies, _So proud of you! xx_

The other text is from Brittany, and causes her a little less happiness that the first.

_Loving the lucky necklace Marley's 'mom' gave her for her birthday, pretty sure it helped win us nationals! :P_

And well, shit, Santana didn't really think that one through, did she?

–

The meaning behind Brittany's text only becomes clear while watching an online video of regionals with Marley when she gets home the following week.

Santana, as always, watches mesmerized as Marley works the stage and belts out a solo like she was fucking born to do it. They're sitting on the couch, Marley tucked into Santana's side and legs hanging over Santana's lap, and Santana feels so at peace, it's insane. She sees her gift hanging off Marley's neck, too, and it fills her with something that she doesn't quite know the name of yet.

When it's all done, Santana just sits and soaks it all in. She's dating a fucking superstar.

"Marley," she says, "you're so fucking amazing, do you even get how amazing you are?"

Marley blushes and looks away, but Santana pulls her back and kisses her instead.

"So," Santana whispers between kisses, "freaking," another kiss, "incredible."

Marley smiles against her and cups her face, deepening the kiss, licking Santana's lip until their tongues are dueling. When Santana pulls back, lightheaded, she frowns as she thinks back to the performance.

"Uh, the second song, I think," Santana says, thinking if she's got the right one, "or was it the last one – your solo, the ballad? What was that one? I can't think whose song it is right now."

Marley blushes again and focuses on Santana's fingers. "It's the... It's an original song."

"Really?" Santana says. "That's awesome. I'm glad you guys are writing again. And especially that Berry's not involved, because we all know how well that went down last time."

"Did you like it?" Marley asks softly.

"Of course," Santana says. "It was fifty shades better than anything we ever did. Didn't even sound like a high school club's song, you know?"

Marley nods, then says something under her breath that Santana can't hear. Her ears are bright red now, and Santana can't help but be amused.

"What is it?" Santana says, ducking her head to catch Marley's eyes.

"I said," Marley says, then clears her throat. "I said, that, er, I wrote it."

Santana looks at Marley blankly for a second. Did she just hear that right?

"You serious?" Santana asks softly, not because she doesn't believe her, but because that is some serious songwriting for a sophomore to do on her own.

Marley just nods, looking a bit apprehensive, until Santana smiles widely at her and she's smiling back.

"Totally amazing," Santana repeats, kissing Marley again.

Okay, she amends her earlier statement – she's dating a super hidden talented fucking superstar.

And that's what Brittany meant in her text, Santana realizes, that the love song Marley wrote was obviously about her, and the song helped win regionals. And that just makes her sigh as she pulls back and watches Marley, wondering how to tell her about this little problem they're having.

"I need to tell you something," Santana starts, because well, that saying is old and overused for a reason – it's useful.

Marley nods, but looks a bit worried, and Santana strokes her fingers in Marley's palm to appease her.

"When you were in Columbus, I went to buy your pendant," Santana says. "I took Brittany with me to help me pick it out. She knows that there's someone new for me, but I didn't tell her it was you."

"At regionals, she said that it was a beautiful necklace and asked me where I got it," Marley frowns. "I just told her my mom gave it to me."

Santana nods. "She put two and two together." Santana sighs. "Marley, I am so sorry, I didn't think. It shouldn't have taken her with me, but she won't tell anyone, I promise, I'll ask her not too."

Marley stays quiet for a while and sits up straight. Santana would panic, if not for the fact that Marley was still playing with her hands.

"It's okay, Santana," Marley says finally. "I just, I don't know. I don't think I'm ready yet. For everyone to know, I mean."

"I know, Marley, I know," Santana says, stroking up and down Marley's arm now. "I've been there, I get it. I'll talk to her, she won't say anything."

"It's not you," Marley says quickly. "It's not– I'm so happy to be with you, okay? I just, I think I need some time to get used to things, do you understand?"

Santana nods, because of course she does. She does more than Marley probably realizes. But she is happy they're talking about this, because it opens up a way for Santana to talk about something she's been wanting to for a while.

"Can I ask you something?" Santana says tentatively. Marley nods. "Am I... Is this the first time you've had feelings for a girl?"

Marley doesn't answer for a long time and Santana thinks that maybe this was the wrong time to bring this up.

"Sorry," Santana says, "that was... It's none of my business, you don't have to–"

"Santana," Marley smiles that one smile that calms Santana down instantly. "Of course it's your business. I was just thinking about it. But no, I can't say that I actively liked another girl before, not in the way it is with you."

"Okay," Santana says. "What about... Well, what about guys, now?"

Marley shrugs. "I don't know. I just, being with you shuts my brain off to everyone else," she says, and Santana smiles smugly, which makes Marley slap her shoulder playfully, "but I think, maybe you just made me realize that it's whatever, you know? Like, I guess that, no matter gender, I realized my type is bitchy yet secretly caring."

Santana laughs at that, and Marley joins in.

"Point taken," Santana says, lifting her hand in mock-surrender. Marley grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth, placing a soft kiss on Santana's fingers.

"There is one thing, though," Marley says. "I do think that sometime soon, I'd like to tell my mom."

–

Santana knocks on Brittany's door later that evening. Mrs Pierce answers and smiles kindly, the same inherent happiness Brittany got from her showing on her features.

When she's finished accosting Santana with hugs and insisting she eats some cookies, Santana is free to go up to Brittany's room.

Lord Tubbington is the first thing she sees, sprawled out on Brittany's bed, then she looks to her side to see Brittany studying quietly at her desk, which is definitely a first. Santana's happy to know that Brittany made good on her promise to work hard to graduate.

When Brittany sees her, she smiles gently and Santana walks over to sit on the bed next to Tubbington. The cat shuffles closer immediately, waiting to be petted, and Santana obliges, resting a hand on his ginormous back.

"So," Brittany says.

When Santana looks up, she biting her lip to keep from smiling and Santana rolls her eyes.

"Fine, yes, you guessed right," Santana relents, and then Brittany's doing that squealing thing again.

When Brittany's recovered, she says, "Not much guessing involved, Santana."

"Also true," Santana says. "A certain short-sightedness on my part, I guess."

"Okay," Brittany jumps up and claps her hands together. She moves over to the bed and settles in on the opposite side of it. "I want to know every little detail! When did it all start?"

"Well," Santana thinks back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment. There's the drugged-up kiss, and then their real kiss, and then obviously the fall-out at Rachel's party, but she guesses that she and Marley have had a certain natural connection long before that. If she had to choose a moment when she thinks that things between her and Marley changed, she'd have to say, "Around New Year's, I suppose."

"New Year's?" Brittany says, and frowns, and oh, she's probably thinking about what's been happening after that, especially when... "But your birthday...?"

"Yeah, I'll get to that part in a minute."

And then Santana brings Brittany up to speed, thankful that she gets to share this with her one other best friend as well, especially now that she knows how the story will end.

By the time she's done, Brittany's lying flat on the bed and looking up at her with joy in her eyes. "Santana, I've never known anyone to be equally as silly and romantic as you."

Santana snorts. "Thanks, I guess?"

Brittany laughs. "So... When Marley's ready, we should totally do Breadstix, double date, the two of us along with Marley and Sam."

"Sure, Brittany," Santana says, even if in her head she's thinking, _never ever in a million years_. Hopefully, by the time Marley can be more public about things, Brittany's moved on from Trouty and found someone much more awesome. "But for now, please, please don't tell anyone."

"You know I won't, San. I've seen what happens, remember?"

Santana nods. "Anyway, I can see Marley panicking due to exams and I guess you are too, so I won't keep you from studying any longer."

Santana gets up and Brittany does too, hugging her before she leaves.

"Thanks for telling me, Santana," Brittany tells her.

"Thanks for listening," Santana says back, breaking their embrace.

"Any time," Brittany says, sitting back down at her desk.

As if understanding the conversation, Tubbington purrs, and Santana laughs as she leaves the room.

"Thank you for listening too, Tubbs," Santana calls back.

–

After exams, Santana and Marley have been together for roughly two months. Marley's made it through her first year at McKinley, Santana's survived her dropout and partly solved her existential crisis, and now Santana's looking forward to relaxing with Marley for the whole summer before flying off to a new start in New York.

Of course, that will be after tonight, the fucking stressful evening that Marley decided on to tell her mother about them.

Santana's been looking at her phone all night, waiting for the call to hear how it all went. She offered to go with Marley, even though she knew this was something that should rather stay between Marley and her mom, but she just wanted to show Marley her support.

She doesn't think for a second that things will go awry, since she's had a first hand view at the great relationship between Marley and her mom since the start of the year. But, one never does know how these things will end up, and she's been very clear with Marley that if anything should happen, the Lopez residence is in the market for a new daughter now that the old one's on her way to another state.

Plus, after telling her parents about Marley, both were absolutely elated, and have in the short time that they've known her, fallen head over heels in love with her. So, Santana's sure that everything will turn out okay, in the end.

This doesn't keep her mind from flipping out, however, and so she waits.

At around eleven, her phone lights up and she grabs it so fast, she wants to challenge fucking Flash and see if he can do it quicker than her. It's not someone calling though, just a text from Marley.

_Everything's ok. Bit tired and emotionally drained though, so talk to you in the morning? Sweet dreams x_

Santana frowns. She can't really tell if this is a good or bad thing, but at least she'll see Marley first thing tomorrow to find out.

_A-okay. Sleep well, see you in a bit xx_

–

When Santana pulls up the driveway the next morning, a few minutes late, she can see Marley outside already, stretching in the early morning light. And well, yeah, that's definitely a sight she can get used to.

She walks up to Marley, eyes trained on her legs at first, but when she looks up, she sees a slow grin forming on Marley's face.

"Remind me to be late every morning from now on," Santana says, taking hold of Marley's hips and pulling her closer.

"Ass," Marley says jokingly, leaning up and giving Santana a quick peck on the lips before leading them over to the sidewalk.

They run along quietly and Santana refrains from asking about Marley's mom. She'll talk when she's ready. Trying to speed up the process though, Santana leads them on the short way to the Lima Bean, thinking they can have a nice chat over some coffee.

As soon as they arrive at the Lima Bean though, Santana can't hold out anymore and says, "So. Spill."

Marley sighs. "It went okay. She's fine with everything, with us, the big thing for her was just that I was hiding it."

"That's not too bad, right?"

"Kind of. Like, half of the conversation wasn't even about you, so, it really does seem that she's fine with it. It's more that, well, we've always told each other everything, you know? And she feels that somehow she's the one who's done something wrong, like, created some environment where I'd feel that I wasn't accepted."

Reaching the counter, they give their orders and don't have to wait too long for their coffees, since they're here earlier than usual and the place is half empty.

"She thought she failed or something," Marley says as she putting some sugar in her drink. "And I told her that that's not it at all, I just wanted to figure out things for myself first, you know?"

"Yeah," Santana says, holding the door open for Marley as they leave the shop, because, well, she's not a fucking neanderthal. "It's still a better reaction than most."

Marley nods. "It's just been hard trying to convince her that she's not in the wrong, but you know parents, always feeling guilty and stuff. Also," Marley takes Santana's hand as they walk down the road together, "she thought that if I can't tell her this, I'd want to hide more things. And if that starts piling up, and I start feeling all that pressure, it might lead me to... Well, she's scared that I..."

"That you'd get sick again," Santana says softly, and Marley nods.

"I told her that I've never been happier and more healthy that I am right now, and I haven't even considered it since that last time."

"And no matter the future, that you'll always have a friend to ask for help, now, yeah?" Santana says.

Marley smiles and kisses her cheek.

"And that," Marley confirms, squeezing Santana's hand.

–

Her conversation with Brittany made her realize that she's never enjoyed a meal with Marley at her favourite restaurant of all time. And though she can't take Marley to the actual Breadstix – and because she guesses it's probably the norm to like, celebrate being together for three months or something – she decided to order in and bring the Breadstix to Marley instead.

Taking advantage of a quiet house with her parents being away for the weekend, Santana does her best to emulate the look of Breadstix. She brings a small table to the dining room and does everything in her power to make it resemble the restaurant, right down to those damned red napkins. She tops it all off with a small sign on the table – above the fake table number she put on it – that reads _Breadstix (Kind Of)_.

When Marley knocks on her door, Santana leads her to the dining room with her hands covering her eyes. Santana unveils the scene and she sees Marley smiling as she reads the sign. She gets it, Santana thinks relieved, and is happy when Marley decides to play along.

"Aw, Santana, you took me to Breadstix!" Marley exclaims, laughing.

"Well, it is my favourite, so I thought it would be a good idea to go and share it with you."

"It's wonderful," Marley says, tone genuine.

Santana leads her over to the table and pulls out the chair, and the smile Marley gives her is so dazzling that she almost trips when she gets the food from the oven, where she's kept it warm in plates covered with foil. She unwraps them and takes the plates over to the table, where Marley waits with her head resting on her hands, looking at Santana like _that_ and if Santana could blush right now, she totally would.

She sits down and reaches for Marley's hand immediately, saying, "Dig in."

Marley just keeps on looking at her, reaching for her fork absentmindedly, and Santana tries but fails to look away from Marley's intense gaze.

"What?" Santana asks softly.

Marley shakes her head. "You're just lovely."

Santana smiles and ducks her head. "So are you."

They spend the rest of their meal making small talk until they've finished eating and the food's cold. Then Santana takes their plates away and brings out phase two of their date.

She takes two full real movie theatre popcorn boxes – the boxes were bought earlier that day, and the popcorn popped just before Marley came – and takes Marley to the living room. Above the television, she hanged another sign that reads _Cinema_ and next to it a collection of DVDs under the sign _Now Playing_.

"Dinner _and_ a movie?" Marley says. "My, you do spoil me."

Santana grins and Marley picks out _Pirates of the Caribbean_. They settle onto the couch, Santana leaning into Marley's side and then throwing a blanket over them.

Halfway through the movie their popcorn lays abandoned on the coffee table and Santana's sitting with her head on Marley's shoulder. Marley's head rests on her own and every now and then, Marley presses a kiss into Santana's hair. It's nice and peaceful, and remains so even when Marley speaks up for the first time since they sat down.

"I get what you did tonight, Santana," Marley says. "I'm sorry that I'm not ready for public things yet, but you have to know I really appreciate it."

"I don't care," Santana says, "as long as I get to spend time with you."

Marley lifts her head and Santana sits up to look at her. "You made me feel so, _so_ special tonight," Marley says. "I mean, you always do, but I just... Do you understand?"

Santana nods. "You make me feel special, too."

Marley leans in and Santana sighs when their lips meet. Marley's hand immediately comes up to hold Santana's face and then, to Santana, the movie in the background is forgotten.

Their tongues touch, once, twice, and then Santana rubs a hand over Marley's stomach before settling it on her waist. She turns the kiss chaste again, kissing Marley softly before pulling away slowly.

She's about to settle in to watch the film again, but then Marley's turning her jaw and they're kissing again, and Santana just follows because, well, duh, since when does she resist that?

In all the time they've been together, they've kissed many times, sometimes longer than others, but not once have they really made out. Like, properly, hours on end, spending time just attached at the lips. Santana always has this thing at the back of her mind where she knows that Marley probably still needs to get used to being physical with a girl, and so she never pushes, entirely content with how they are at the moment.

It seems that now, though, Marley has other ideas, and if she's ready, Santana's definitely not going to be opposed to it. But she wants Marley to be comfortable, at all times, and so she just settles in, following as Marley takes the lead.

Marley tangles her fingers in Santana's hair and pulls, and Santana obliges and sits up more fully to face Marley. Marley pushes into her and Santana opens her mouth wider, tilts her head further, kisses Marley _deeper_. She brings a hand up to cup Marley's cheek and feels Marley's other hand spread out on her shoulder blades, scratching lightly.

And fuck, this is heaven, honest to God, Santana loses all sense of space and time.

Marley breaks away and Santana can tell that she doesn't want to stop, just holding Santana close and trying to catch her breath. Santana smiles at her and she smiles back, letting out a shaky breath as Santana kisses her jaw. Santana moves lower, lower, until she's properly sucking on Marley's neck because whatever, it's totally summer so Marley won't be showing up to school parading any hickeys.

Santana feels Marley's hand on the back of her head pull her up and then they're kissing again, and then Marley doesn't stop pulling Santana, closer, closer, closer, until they're moving backwards together. And then Marley's laid out on the couch and Santana lies atop her, and okay, this is also new.

New and wonderful, that being said, and Santana can barely think with Marley's body pressed against her like this. Marley's hands fall to Santana's hips before moving up her back, and Santana leans on one arm while using her other handto stroke Marley's hair.

Marley freezes a bit, and Santana pulls away, kissing her cheek but not stopping her hand's caress, and looks down to see Marley staring up her. Santana smiles gently and Marley returns it, before slowly leaning in and resuming their kiss.

Marley moves downwards and then she's also kissing Santana's neck, a bit hesitantly, and Santana grins to herself. She gently presses on the back of Marley's head just to assure Marley that it feels really good, and Marley closes her lips over the skin with a bit more confidence.

And shit, Santana really can do this all night. In the background, she can hear Jack Sparrow asking about rum, but that's really not important right now, not when Marley is doing _that_ with her tongue.

Santana moans and then the pace changes. She presses down into Marley, not being able to stop it when things turn a bit frenzied, kissing Marley with more tongue than lips, now.

She runs her hand down Marley's side, then up her thigh, and then just before she can settle her hand on Marley's hip, there's hands on her chest pushing her backwards and Marley's breaking the kiss, leaving Santana dazed and confused.

Marley sits up completely, forcing Santana up and off her, and Santana panics. Marley's not looking at her, sitting next to her on the couch with her feet on the floor now, looking down at her lap. Santana sits facing her side, watching her closely for any signs that can point out her misconduct.

"What's wrong?" Santana asks softly. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

Marley shakes her head but continues her silence. "It's not you," she whispers.

"Hey," Santana whispers, putting a hand on Marley's back. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Marley says nothing, and Santana scoots closer. She rubs circles on Marley's lower back, hoping it to be comforting.

"Please Marley," Santana continues, "if I did something wrong please tell me so–"

"I can't have sex with you," Marley interrupts her suddenly, and then looks away again, biting her lip.

And wow, okay, that is so not what Santana was thinking or trying at all, but shit.

"I'm sorry," Marley says then. "I'm sorry, I knew this would happen, I just–"

"Marley," Santana says gently, "stop it."

Santana gets off the couch and kneels before Marley, trying to look her in the eyes.

"I'm sorry if I made you think that that's what's happening here. I was just... I thought we were just making out, that's seriously all I was doing," Santana says. "I would never push you into any–"

"I'm a virgin," Marley blurts out again, staring at the far wall.

"Marley," Santana says again, because well, she definitely did not know that, but it explains Marley's behaviour, at least.

She just wishes Marley didn't look so ashamed of saying it, because Santana has some very strong feelings about fucking society and girls being made to feel like they're less worthy for being celibate – or in her case, less worthy for being on the far opposite side of being celibate.

"I'm not ready," Marley says softly. Her eyes are watery now, and Santana hates it. "I... I don't think I'll be ready for a long time, and I know you have– If that isn't what you want, I... I understand if you don't want to be–"

"Stop, Marley," Santana tries again, putting a hand on Marley's chin and forcing her to look at Santana. "I don't care. You shouldn't feel like this, okay? You're perfect, we're perfect. I care about you so, so much."

Marley frowns, and Santana can tell she's trying to see if Santana's telling the truth or not.

"Your perfect," Santana repeats. "I don't have to sleep with you to want to be with you. And if you're ever, ever with someone else that tells you differently, you beat their ass to the curb, alright?"

Marley nods, but her movements seem robotic, and Santana sighs.

"You have to believe me, Marley," Santana says. "I want to be with you. Do you hear me? I don't care about anything else. I want to be with you, just as you are. It's not even a factor. You're not getting rid of me that easily," Santana adds.

It makes a fraction of a smile appear on Marley's lips and Santana smiles, kissing Marley's nose. She gets back on the couch and pulls Marley into her side.

"But I need you to talk to me, okay? Whenever things get intense for you. When we're... physical, I want you to let me know if you're comfortable or not, alright?"

Marley nods and puts her arms around Santana, and Santana settles back into the couch.

"We're in this _together_. Not just you with me having some crazy expectations and pressure and worries. We just see how things go, one step at a time, yeah?"

Marley nuzzles her nose against Santana's neck and then Santana feels a light kiss being pressed to her jaw. Then she hears Marley exhale a soft, "Deal."

She grins and kisses the top of Marley's head in turn.

"Now let's watch Mr Sparrow kick some ass."

–

"So, there's about a month and a half of summer left," Marley tells Santana one afternoon, when they're lounging around Santana's room. Marley's listening to music and Santana's reading, holding up her book with one hand and running her hand along Marley's calf with the other. "When are you working up the courage to share your dreams with me?"

Santana sighs, thinking about the plans she's made for New York, but never feeling quite ready to say it out loud yet. Sometimes it feels silly, sometimes that she's reaching too far, and at others she just feels like staying here with Marley 'cause a part of her is so goddamn scared to go out there on her own.

"I don't know, Marley. Right before I board the plane?"

Marley shifts and Santana she focuses on her book again, until she feels Marley straddle her and looks down to see Marley's hands resting on her stomach. The book in her hands is blocking Marley's face and Santana keeps it there out of pure stubbornness. But then Marley is ducking underneath it and her face appears in view instead of Sherlock Holmes' latest adventure, and Santana grins as she puts the book down next to her on the bed.

Marley picks up Santana's hands and tangles their fingers together, pressing their joined hands down on the pillow above Santana's head.

She leans down and presses the lightest of kisses on Santana's forehead, then another one on her lips. Then she lets go of Santana's hands and puts her own arms on Santana's chest, resting her chin on them and waits.

Santana looks back at her, thinking about just how fucking beautiful this girl is, and then redirects her mind back to the topic at hand. She brings her hands down and plays with Marley's hair, making Marley's eyes close briefly and a lazy smile appear on her lips.

"I don't want to go to college," Santana starts, because that's the easiest to get out of the way. "I know it can help me get contacts and a degree behind my name, which, in case all else fails, will at least help me as a back-up if I want to drop everything and, I don't know, do something useless like teach English in some obscure fucking Asian country."

Marley smiles encouragingly, and Santana clears her throat.

"But I don't want to just rock up there and pull a Kurt and get caught up in some random ass job that could cause me to lose sight of the big picture. But then, just having some contrived crappy job in New York also sounds appealing in it's own way, but then I'm worrying about wasting another year of my life, which brings another onslaught of panic-driven thoughts, which in turn make me–"

Santana's rant is cut short when Marley leans up and kisses her softly and sweetly.

"Calm down, Santana," Marley says, then settles back onto Santana's chest.

"Right," Santana says, taking a deep breath. "So, I've seen this kind of cheap loft in a relatively safe area on the fringes of New Yoek. The money that my mom gave me can cover a year's rent, at least. I'm thinking of taking it, getting a part-time job and spending the rest of my time auditioning for anything and everything I can. I figured, yeah, I'm still getting a taste of the struggling-artist-in-New-York vibe, but also that I'm truly going for it, you know? Like taking this crazy big chance and just throwing it out there."

"Yeah," Marley says. Santana leans forward and kisses her cheek.

"I know it sounds crazy," Santana says, "because well, I have no credentials and all that, but if there's one thing I'm good at, it's making myself seem like a bigger deal than I am. You just have to fake the professionalism. I'll get Brittany with her video stuff to help me make a semi-showreel or something, and I guess I just want people to see me and hear my voice, because who knows what can happen. A year of auditions, you know, it can go either north or south. If I see it's not working and I can always reevaluate, but I just really feel that I need to be there right now."

Marley just looks at Santana with a small smile on her face, and Santana tries to disguise how nervous she feels under all her excitement.

"So," Santana says, after a few minutes of Marley just saying nothing, "what do you think?"

"I think you're wonderful," Marley says. "I think you're so brave for following your passion, honey. I think that New York's going to be a better place with you in it. And I think that we need to get moving."

At that Marley jumps up and Santana looks at her, confused. "What?"

"Well," Marley says, "as far as I can tell there's a CV to write, maybe some business cards to make, and a showreel for us to shoot."

Santana grins at how supportive Marley's being.

"Come on, Lopez," Marley jests. "Aunty Marls is about to whip your ass into pro shape."

Santana laughs loudly and lets Marley drag her towards her dad's study.

–

Turns out, it's pretty bleak to look at her CV laid out like that. Marley sits on her lap while they look at formats on the internet and type all the info usually needed for these things, but even Marley's closeness doesn't make Santana feel any better about it.

The highlights are her cheerleading and the glee club. That's it. And then there's a big space in dates between graduation and now, because she doesn't want to put her failed stint in Louisville in. Then there's not much else under hobbies next to singing and performing, because hell, why else would she be sending out this paper to auditions to sing if she doesn't like it?

And not to mention the complete blank spot usually reserved for employment, because fuck if she ever needed to work a day in her life with her dad having the job he does.

She jokingly types in _Best Girlfriend in the World, April 2013 to present_, which makes Marley laugh and kiss her. But then Marley erases it and Santana just feels depressed again.

"Maybe the business cards, instead?" Santana asks, dejected.

"Maybe," Marley says, clearly thinking of another plan.

"It's just," Santana says, not quite sure how to phrase this, "this looks wrong. Like, no one can tell from a piece of paper what I'm like. It's all the wrong things they need to know about me. And it's unfair, because obviously I need some kind of paper fucking proof to carry around with me cause I can't just throw a CD at them and be like, here, now you can actually see what I can do."

At this, Marley frowns and stares at the computer, and it's like Santana can see the lightbulb go on when it does.

Marley opens a new file on the screen. "What if you can, though?"

"Can what?" Santana asks, intrigued.

"Throw a CD at them," Marley explains. "Think about this, you make your showreel, and then design the cover so a nice picture of you is on there. On the CD itself, you put on of those sticker cover things on, with a brief overview of your credits, and because it's so easy to access, they'll just watch it anyway before being happy or disappointed with a resume and simply throwing it aside."

"And it'll stand out," Santana says. "Maybe make them curious?"

"Exactly," Marley says. "What do you reckon? Worth a shot?"

"I reckon I'm dating the female Einstein."

–

At Marley's insistence, they head over to Brittany's house after checking through text that Brittany is home and alone.

Apparently, Marley and Brittany have been getting along just swell at school, and Santana doesn't quite know how to feel about her ex and her girlfriend mixing like that. Sure, Brittany is still her best friend, which gives her some leverage there, but there's still this underlying fear that they'll gang up on her somehow.

When Brittany opens the door, she takes one look at their joined hands and –

"Please don't squeal," Santana says, but it's in vain.

Brittany bounces over and hugs them both excitedly for long moments, and Santana realizes that this is the first time that Brittany's seen them together, and so she allows it.

Then Brittany pulls them up to her room and sits them on the bed, pulling over her laptop and placing it on her lap, all business-like. Santana wants to laugh, because this is exactly what she means with faking being a professional. She learned that shit from Brittany, after all, because fuck if Brittany doesn't imagine herself to be Oprah every time she records an episode of _Fondue for Two_.

"So, you're in need of my expertise?" Brittany asks seriously, and Marley and Santana chuckles.

"If you can, I was hoping you'd help me put together a showreel?" Santana says. "Like, some of the glee club performances and some new things that I was hoping you'd shoot for me?"

"That sounds awesome," Brittany says, and Santana can tell that she's genuinely excited.

"And then also maybe burn a couple dozen disks for us to distribute?" Marley asks innocently, and Santana just about kisses her, because no one in the world is immune to that tone.

"That sounds less awesome," Brittany says, "but I'll do it, 'cause it all sounds so exciting. Plus Lord Tubbington is currently studying tarrot cards and told me there's an editing Oscar in my future, so. It all has to start somewhere, right?"

–

Santana spends a few days awkwardly acting out fake movie scenes and recording some songs on Brittany's surprisingly impressive recording system.

Whenever she needs to get emotional for a 'scene', Brittany just puts Marley behind the camera and Santana pours her heart out, finding it easy after a while. Brittany really is a genius, especially when it comes to this stuff.

About a week before Santana's due to leave, Brittany comes to her house with a whole box full of DVDs in it. Each one contains the showreel that Santana approved, which is filled with footage of her singing and dancing and occasionally talking on it. It's perfect, and enough to show any producer or agent what she's about in a single minute.

Marley and Santana cooks for Brittany to say thanks, and the three of them spend a lovely evening eating and talking about the future. Apparently, inspired by Santana, Brittany plans to take a gap year and travel about the country a bit to make sure her next move is the right one.

Later that week, Santana and Marley changes every DVD case so that the inside cover contains a photo of Santana with her name on it, and every disk is covered with a sticker with a brief overview of Santana's credentials. It all looks pretty impressive and professional laid out like that, and somehow it makes Santana feel more ready for this New York mission than before.

"Thank you," Santana says, leaning over and kissing Marley, who was also looking at their handiwork before being caught off guard by Santana's lips.

When Marley pulls back, she replies simply, "Your dreams are important to me, Santana," and then it's all Santana can do to kiss her dizzy in reply.

–

The reality of leaving having to leave Marley only kicks in on the weekend before she's due to leave.

Overall, the thought of separation has been easier with Marley than it was a year ago with Brittany. Santana thinks that the main difference is the fact that she and Brittany have been joined together at the hip since she can remember, and, when she had to leave for Louisville after the devastation that was Brittany not graduating, and the fact that they were actually properly in love mixed in too – it was all just too much.

On the other hand, Marley is someone that she hasn't even known for a whole year. Not that it will hurt any less to be apart from her, but Santana thinks that it won't affect her in the same life-changing way as being ripped apart from her life-long best friend.

She thinks this difference will help them cope better, and that they'll make it, really honest to God make it, in the way that she and Brittany never really could.

Nevertheless, as Santana is falling asleep with Marley held in her arms, it hits her that soon, she's not going to be able to do this with Marley again until Thanksgiving. After reassuring her mother that they weren't having sex any time soon, Marley was allowed to stay over at Santana's whenever she wants and Santana has asked Marley to camp out at her house for this last weekend, so that they can spend every possible moment together.

She can see the change in Marley, too, who keeps their hugs for just a second longer than usual, lingers on Santana's lips for a moment more.

They've talked about it and they're confident in their relationship, but still, Santana feels apprehensive about it all, Skype and phone calls be damned.

She thinks of all the things they usually do together, like jogging and cooking and visiting the treehouse, and her eyes start to water with the sudden possibility of not being able to so it all whenever she wants to anymore. She guesses it's just all the emotions that comes along with such a big change as moving to another state, but still. There's a sadness in her that seems to grow, when instead she should be happy for her last few days with her girlfriend.

She looks at Marley and decides to kiss her awake. Marley responds after a few seconds and arches her body into Santana's, and fuck, sometimes Santana is just absolutely crazy about this girl.

"Hmm," Marley says, pulling away and asking hoarsely, "'time is it?"

"Don't know," Santana says, kissing her again.

A few minutes later, Marley stretches and pulls Santana to lie on her side to face her.

"You should get some sleep," Marley says.

"Probably," Santana says. She leans forward to give Marley another chaste peck. "So, as always, I have a deal for you. Every morning we'll still go jogging, at the same time, and then we can pretend we're still doing it together, how about that? Then you'll still be the first thing I think of every morning, just like now."

Even in the dark, Santana senses that Marley's mouth is curling into a slow smile. Marley shuffles closer to her until her whole body is pressing against Santana's, and Santana lets out a shaky breath at the contact.

"Get some sleep, hon," Marley says again. "We'll be fine. We promised, remember?"

She pulls Santana into her neck and Santana nods against it, sighing as she feels Marley put an arm around her waist and pull her closer. And right there, that's where Santana feels safest, so she can't even fight it when her eyelids start to droop out of pure contentedness.

–

D-day comes on a Sunday morning.

Marley and Santana wake up slowly, sharing light kisses in bed before grudgingly getting up and getting dressed.

When they're done, they just kind of stand there, surrounded by Santana's bags, knowing they have to head downstairs soon.

Marley smiles and walks over to Santana. "Feeling ready?" she asks, ever the supporter.

"I don't know," Santana says honestly, putting her arms around Marley's neck.

"You'll be great," Marley says confidently, then leans in to kiss Santana.

Santana presses into Marley slowly and softly, wondering if Marley will change much in the time that she'll be away. Will she grow more, making Santana lean up even further when she kisses her again? Will she look any different? Feel any different? Taste or sound any different? Sure, Santana's coming back for winter break, but God knows a lot can happen in four months.

"Stop thinking so hard," Marley says when she pulls back, and Santana chuckles.

"Telepathy, much?" Santana asks jokingly, and Marley just smiles and goes in for a long hug.

Finally, Marley disentangles herself and grabs the nearest suitcase.

"Let's get you to the airport, Miss Lopez."

–

Her parents, Marley and Brittany all go with her to the airport. And it's strange, thinking they're here, and when she gets to the other side, Quinn will be waiting for her. It's nice to know that there will be some familiarity and comfort on both sides of this trip.

She checks in and then they have a light lunch together, and before she knows it, it's time for her to board and they're all standing by the gate, and Santana has no idea how to feel.

She hugs both her parents at once, exchanging various _I love you_'s and _be safe_'s. The Brittany comes over and picks Santana up in a hug, all smiles and excitement, and it lightens up the atmosphere somewhat.

"New York's not gonna know what hit it," Brittany says happily, "they thought Sandy was bad, but wait 'till they meet Santana!"

Santana just smiles, because Brittany will always be Brittany. "You should swing by on your cross-country trip, Britt," Santana says in lieu of a greeting.

"You can count on it," Brittany winks, and then she and Santana's parents kind of step aside when Santana slides over to Marley.

Marley is wearing one of her secretive smiles and Santana just smiles back, not being able to gauge where Marley's head's at.

"Don't be sad," is all Marley says, and then Santana realizes that yeah, she kind of is, behind the excitement. "I'll see you soon."

Santana nods, stepping closer, but not too close because she's aware they're in public, but, it's just, ugh.

"Can I kiss you?" Santana asks softly. "I know we're out, but it's the airport and there's probably just Germans everywhere who don't even know you and no one will even notice us through their own tears. I'll be so quick, I promise."

Marley laughs at her, full on laughs at her and Santana can't think what's so funny about it. But then Marley just cups Santana's cheek and kisses her, and Santana's mind goes blank.

When Marley pulls away, she throws her arms around Santana's shoulders and hugs her tightly.

"Let me know when you're safe," Marley whispers in her ear. Santana nods into her shoulder.

Then Santana's pulling back and squeezing Marley's hand, backing up slowly and waving at her girlfriend, her parents and her best friend. And then she's being led off to the gates and everyone disappears from sight and it's just her, alone, on the start of her new adventure.

–

When she sees Quinn at JFK, Quinn's smirking at her and Santana knows that means she's happy to see her.

(She's probably wearing that exact same expression right now.)

She fires of a quick text to Marley and her parents to let them know she's here, and then walks over to Quinn, who just squeezes her arm in greeting.

Quinn helps her lug her suitcases from the trolley to the taxi to the third floor of her building and finally into her apartment. It's all an open plan space with only the bathroom in a separate room, and the only piece of furniture in sight is a bed, but somehow Santana falls in love instantly.

"This is... nice," Quinn says. "Quaint."

"Fuck off," Santana says easily. "It's not Yale, but it's mine, so I don't care."

Quinn laughs, and Santana does too, because here they are, supposed to be grown-ups, and Santana still feels so very lost. She guesses Quinn does too. Santana walks over to the window and it's all a bit surreal that she and Quinn are standing here, in the best city in the world, and that they've both gotten out of Lima.

"So," Quinn says, "Wanna go grab a coffee?"

–

Luckily the new term at Yale only starts the following week, so Quinn stays there with her all week while she settles into her place. Together, they raid mostly second hand stores for pieces of furniture and kitchen appliances, starting with a rack to hang her clothes on, a cupboard, a desk for her laptop and a bedside table.

She tries to not go too overboard with the spending, because later she'll be needing this money for rent, but even with the minimal changes, the apartment feels less empty already.

By the following Sunday, Santana wakes up – a bit grumpily because fuck can Quinn not try to steal the covers for one goddamn night – and looks around, and it's like she just suddenly feels like she's really starting to lead her own life, finally.

Maybe it's not so awkward then, this grown-up thing.

–

For the first month, Santana lives for Wednesdays and Sundays, the days she gets to see Marley on Skype.

They stay in contact the rest of the time, Santana often texting Marley pictures of the things she sees and does during the day, or whenever she encounters something that reminds her of Marley. Marley responds in kind, texting her hilarious photos in and around McKinley – a standout being one of Mr Schue's new haircut with a simple byline reading _JT circa '96?_ – and sometimes photos of their jogging route, or the treehouse, or Marley and her mom waving at the camera in a picture together.

But Skype is really where it's at, where she gets to see Marley's smile whenever she laughs at something Santana says, or that sparkle in her eyes when Santana tells her about something awesome, or that hooded look she gets which means she would really like to kiss Santana, if she could.

So, like every week, by the time Santana presses 'video call' in her apartment on Sunday, she's nearly bouncing up and down where she's sat on her bed.

"Hey," Marley's voice says, and then the video goes on, and there she is, dazzling smile and beautiful face adorning Santana's laptop. And like every time, Santana has to resist bringing her hand up to stroke the screen.

"Hey Marley," Santana says, face nearly splitting in two with how wide she's smiling. "How are things?"

"Good," Marley says, "lazy weekend, you know? Hung out with Brittany and did some yoga, finished some assignments, nothing major. How about you?"

"I actually have some news for you," Santana says, reaching for the pin on her bed stand. She lifts it up to the camera, making sure Marley can see the _Santana_ that's printed on it. "It's only a morning shift at a coffee shop down the street, but, at least now I can stop dipping into the back-up fund every time I need something, you know?"

"That's great, baby," Marley says. "I bet you'll make a very sexy barista."

"Duh," Santana grins. "If only I could get a part time evening job, too, I'll be set. Then I still have afternoons open to check out the auditioning scene here. I've only gone to three so far, I feel I need to up my game."

"Just don't wear yourself out," Marley says.

"Pfft. I have so much free time on my hands most days I don't know what to do with myself," Santana says. "But I promise to take care of myself," she adds, seeing Marley's stern gaze.

"Good," Marley says. "I miss you."

"You too, lovely," Santana says, lying back and just staring at the screen a bit, staring at Marley.

They spend the rest of the night making small talk until Santana feels her eyelids drooping, and then she hears Marley utter a soft _goodnight_ before she falls asleep, still facing her laptop.

–

Santana makes quick friends at her new job, which she is fucking awesome at, obviously. Though, whatever, it's mostly just smiling suggestively at customers and then bathing in tips, but whatever, when something works, it works.

New York's nightlife is awesome, and so is all the people that circles in and out of it. She goes through some drunken nights where she has great conversations with some people she never sees again, and others that she stays in contact with, and pretty soon, it all starts to feel normal.

Like, there's not many places that she feels comfortable and at home, but here, in every random corner of New York, wherever she goes, night or day, she feels like she belongs. It's rather liberating.

The best part is when, after two months, she and some of the girls from work go to this diner-slash-karaoke bar, where the vibe is relaxed and still classy, and the food is beyond amazing. Even better is the little _Now Hiring_ sign Santana spots by the door, and after checking in with the manager that it's still open – and spending about two very uncomfortable minutes with his eyes trained on her cleavage – she is happy to call herself the hostess of the restaurant.

So there it is, her nights and mornings sorted, while she still follows her passion the rest of the day. She's making some serious cash, too, and feels relatively positive about it all, like her big break is just around the corner.

–

But two weeks before she's due to go back home, the auditioning still hasn't paid off, and some doubt finds it's way into Santana's mind.

Maybe these people really are looking for someone with a NYADA-like status or something behind their name. Or at the very least, someone that's not a small town girl and current barista trying to make it big without any previous experience. Or maybe, and this is what gets Santana down, most days when the phone's not ringing – maybe she's just not good enough, and this plan is not working out for her at all.

"Santana, these things take time," Marley tries to appease her after Santana calls her when she's feeling to down about it. "You've got two great jobs though, and you're doing so well so far, you have nothing to worry about."

"I know," Santana says, staring up at the ceiling and clutching at her phone, wishing she could be holding Marley instead. "I know, but it's just– Ugh, I don't know, I just keep thinking I was stupid coming here with this half-ass plan."

"It's a great plan," Marley says. "You're doing great. And at the rate you're going, you'll have enough money to stay there for longer than a year, so you have time, okay?"

"Yeah," Santana says. She exhales loudly, trying to calm down.

"I believe in you, okay?"

"I know," Santana says. "I can't wait for Christmas."

"Me neither," Marley says, and Santana can hear the smile in her voice. "Get some sleep. I'll see you soon."

–

This year, Santana's parents were all too happy to grant her wish to have Marley and her mother over for Christmas.

Santana and Quinn, deciding to fly together, arrives in Lima the day before Christmas Eve. Judy and Santana's parents are waiting for them, along with Marley. Santana nearly chokes Marley in a hug before the both of them are being hugged by Santana's parents, and Santana nearly bursts from happiness.

Santana spends most of the day unpacking the little suitcase she brought with her, taking hours because she spends most of the time making out with Marley between piles of clothes on her bed. They reluctantly part so Marley can go help her mother with preparations for Christmas, because apparently the Rose family doesn't like to show up as guests empty handed, but at least she'll see Marley again in less than twenty-four hours, so. It could be worse.

Christmas Eve dinner is spectacular.

Marley and her mom and Santana and her parents all sit around what can only be called a fucking feast, and talk and joke and just generally enjoy each other's company, and Santana is thankful her folks get on so well with Marley's mom.

Close to midnight, they all move into the living room with some hot drinks, sit together and make small talk as they wait fort he clock to hit twelve.

Santana sits cuddled with Marley on a couch, comfortably snuggled into Marley's side with Marley's arm around her waist, and this is brilliant, this. Not only is Santana so happy that they're both so strong and comfortable in their relationship that they can so easily pick up where they left off, but sitting together with their families on an important day like this, it feels like something is wonderfully different between them.

At midnight, presents are exchanged and it's all marvelously intimate. Mrs Rose gets presents from Santana's parents, from Santana and from Marley, Santana's parents from their daughter and one from both their guests, and Santana and Marley each get a present from their parents and each other.

Santana chuckles when she sees that Marley got her a framed picture of herself on her hill with the whole of Lima behind her, obviously after Santana complained that she wished she had more pictures of them to look at in her apartment. Marley frowns at Santana's reaction, but then laughs as she opens her own present and sees that Santana got her the exact same thing with the exact same reason in mind, only her picture is of Santana standing by water's edge with the Statue of Liberty in view far in the background.

Marley smiles and kisses Santana, then, "We need to take some more while you're here, so we can both be in the frame this time."

"Deal," Santana says, kissing her again.

–

The rest of winter break goes far too fast.

On, Boxing Day, Santana and Marley goes shopping, and the night after that, they go to a party at Sugar's house, which is all kinds of bitching. The whole glee club and even the new graduates like Artie and Tina are there, along with Puck, Mike and Mercedes. Brittany is there, who is spending her last few weeks in Lima after working at Breadstix for the past few months raising money for her 'epic trip', as she calls it. Also here is Sam, and Santana is fucking happy to know that Brittany finally dumped that loser and is moving on to better things. There's free booze and free everything and Sugar even hired a legit DJ and her house is a fucking mansion and Santana's having a grand old time.

And fuck if she'll say it out loud, but she does miss hanging with all her Lima friends like this. With a whole new load of them graduating, she doesn't know how many of these bashes they have left.

Santana, Brittany and Quinn are standing by the alcohol table taking shot after shot, playing a drinking game based off the quirks of their friends. Every time Mercedes says, "Hell naw," every time Artie does his hand-praising move, every time Mike dances from one person to the next instead of walking there, the list goes on. It's safe to say, the three of them are very pleasantly drunk.

Brittany and Quinn though, are like, really, really drunk.

"What is wrong with you guys?" Santana slurs. "You can barely stand and we just started playing."

The both burst out laughing, looking at each other while biting their lip. Santana looks between them, confused, until Brittany speaks up.

"We've also been drinking for every time you stare at Marley longingly, and every time she does the same."

"Suffice to say we've gotten quite a few drinks ahead of you," Quinn adds.

Santana rolls her eyes. "I hate you both," she says, but she does it with a grin.

True, it's torture not being able to touch Marley when she's so drunk and feeling pretty fucking frisky, if she can say so herself. But at least they've had some training in this, and so every time Santana catches Marley's eye in the crowd, she just pretends Marley's on a laptop screen, and it's easier not to go over there and scoop her up in Santana's arms.

"Come on," Brittany says, leading her over to the dance floor.

"What?" Santana says.

"Quinn's gonna grab Marley so the four of us can boogie," Brittany grins. "It'd be too unfair if you don't at least get to dance with your girlfriend tonight."

And shit, sometimes Santana loves her friends so much, it's crazy.

–

Boycotting their friends and family in favour of spending New Year's alone, Santana and Marley decide to relive last year's episode and drive out to Marley's hill to watch the fireworks.

They lie together on the hood again, this time with Santana's arm around Marley shoulder and Marley's head resting in the crook of Santana's neck and her arm on Santana's stomach. They mindlessly chew at some french fries Santana brought with as they wait for midnight.

"So," Santana says, gulping down another fry, "any resolutions?"

Marley squeezes Santana's hip. "You first."

"Hmm," Santana says, not really having thought of it before this moment. "Maybe to upgrade my coffee job. Like, I love it and it pays well and I have some good friends there, but it's becoming slightly monotonous."

"I say go for it," Marley says, reaching toward the french fry bag. "And?"

"I don't know," Santana says. "Well, to spend more time looking at auditions that suit me and only focus on nailing those, perhaps? I think maybe another tactic would work, instead of just going for anything that's available. Might save me some time and heartache."

"You'll get there, San," Marley repeats. "Just you wait."

Santana smiles and kisses Marley's hair. "What about you?"

Marley takes a deep breath. "Well, I've been thinking, especially since Sugar's party, and it's... To... To stop hiding how I feel about you."

Santana sits up a bit and ducks her head down, pulling Marley up until they're on the same level. "Are you sure, Marley?" Santana asks. "It's a big step, you're still in school and people aren't... I don't expect you to–"

"I want to," Marley says, reaching up and putting a strand of hair behind Santana's ear. "It's been nine months of us hiding, Santana. I want to be able to kiss you at airports and dance with you at parties and take you to prom and hold hands in front of our friends. I just– I'm ready, I'm sure."

"Okay," Santana says, briefly kissing Marley. "But it's not going to be easy, at school, kids can be–"

"People like you and Kurt," Marley says, "you've made it a bit easier for the rest of us."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Santana says, sitting back again, pulling Marley into her side, so that they're both facing the view.

"I won't," Marley says. "Not when I have you."

The telltale cracks of fireworks are heard in the distance. A few flickers of colour light the sky, but Santana knows the real show is still coming.

"I also have another one," Marley says quietly, so that Santana almost doesn't hear her.

Santana looks to her side and sees Marley's gaze trained on the lights, expression determined. "What is it?" Santana asks.

"To, er, to... To tell you that I love you," Marley says.

When Marley turns to face her, Santana just gapes back, unsure if she just heard that right.

Marley takes a deep breath, looks Santana right in the eye, and fulfills her resolution when she repeats, "I love you, Santana."

Santana kisses Marley then, kisses her so long that they completely miss the fireworks, and by the time she's pulled back, breathless, and the only thing she can focus on in the dark is Marley's shining eyes.

"I love you too, Marley," Santana replies.


	6. Part 2: Love won't hurry away

Santana strides through the streets of New York like a woman on fucking air.

She's got some premium coffee in her hand, she's got her first callback ever, she's got a new morning job and she's got a girlfriend back in Lima who loves her, honest to God loves her, and it's only February.

She can feel it, 2014 is gonna be her fucking year.

Or at least, it was going swell until some fucker rounds the corner and causes her coffee to splatter all over her jeans and boots, with only a few minutes left before her first day at her new job at a quaint little semi-deli, semi-bakery type place.

"Christ!" Santana screams, looking down at her drenched clothes, then up at the guy who walked into her, who is also regaining his balance and watching her stained jeans with indifference. "Clearly you're not fucking blind staring at me like that," Santana tells him, "so did you somehow mistake yourself for Spiderman while swinging around corners like a twat?!"

The guy stares at Santana for about two seconds before bursting into laughter, and Santana is irate.

"You think this is a joke, buddy?" Santana asks, lifting up her coffee, ready to pour the rest of it out on this man's face.

"Oh man," the guy says, catching his breath. He looks at Santana, almost patronizing, like he knows something Santana doesn't. "That is so much better than the contrived _watch where you're going_ I've been hearing for the past ten years of my life."

"So you regularly walk into people, idiota?" Santana asks. "Well, let's see if you still want to do that after I go all Lima Heights on that sorry ass."

This only makes him smile wider, even as Santana's descending on him, but he just stays calm in the face of her rage, and shit, has Santana really lost that thing she had that used to make people terrified of her?

"You're funny," the guy says, patronizing smile still fully intact. "You an actress?"

"No," Santana bites out, because well, whatever this guy's thinking, she's not about to indulge him by embarrassing herself as the small town aspiring actress-slash-singer that he thinks she is, even if that's the case.

"Good answer," he says.

"You must have some death wish," Santana says, close enough to strike now.

The guy raises his hands in defense, and finally, that's more the reaction Santana was looking for. "Okay, wait, listen. I know you want to kick me in the nuts right now–"

"Understatement of the century," Santana interjects.

"–but just so you know, I like that spunk you've got going on there," he finishes. "When you've calmed down enough not to want to break my face in anymore, give me a call."

Then he simply puts a business card in Santana's hand, salutes her and walks away, and Santana just stands there, perplexed.

Santana looks down at the card and her eyes land on the word _Scene Agencies_.

And what the fuck, has she just been _spotted_?

–

"Oh my God, Santana, that's good, right?" Marley asks when Santana calls her later. "I mean, that's great, yeah?"

"I don't know," Santana says, lying on her bed, twirling the card around her fingers. "This guy might be a chancer or just some massive perve or some porn boss, and he somehow spotted the desperation on my face."

"Firstly, you're not desperate, you just got a callback, and secondly, why don't you just give him a call and find out."

Santana sighs. "Maybe. I just, I don't want to get too excited over this, but... Well, after months of getting nothing, this is like a miracle, and some part of me really wants this guy not to be a poser."

"I know, honey," Marley says, "but wait a week and call him. If he still remembers you, maybe it's a good thing. Find out more about him and just see what happens."

"I guess," Santana says. "Enough about me, though, how are you?"

"Good," Marley says slyly, drawing the word out, and Santana knows there's something Marley's not telling her.

"Yes?" Santana says in the same tone, hoping Marley will get the hint.

"Wanna video chat for a minute?" Marley asks. "I want to show you something."

Santana pulls her laptop closer and puts off the phone, turning it on and loading up Skype.

"I'm getting you an awesome phone for your birthday so we can FaceTime," Santana says when she's logged on.

"Santana," Marley reprimands her, because Santana has come to realize that Marley doesn't like bringing up the money thing, and likes it even less when Santana spends a lot of cash on her. "Anyway," Marley continues, tone much lighter, "you remember my resolution this year?"

Santana smiles shyly, because, hello, how could she ever forget that?

Sensing what Santana's thinking about, Marley blushes. "The other one," Marley amends.

"Right," Santana smiles, though of course her smile doesn't fade for a minute.

"So, I've been thinking that, like you said, it's a process, and I've been taking small steps, so, here," Marley says, turning the laptop to the side so that Marley only takes up half of the frame.

And then Unique's face appears on screen, and Santana almost dies of shock, because the whole thing is like a Jack in the Box – that bitch always pops out when you least expect it.

"Girl," Unique starts, "you better look after my bestie or Unique will cut a bitch."

Though Unique is about as frightening as a gnat, Santana appreciates the sentiment, because it's always good to know that there are other people who can look out for Marley when Santana's not around.

"You just take care of her over there and we'll be good, Unique," Santana answers instead.

Marley smiles, delighted, and God, Santana is so, so proud of her. But now Unique's in the room so, needing to keep up her rep, she just mouths the words to Marley when Unique looks away from the screen. Marley mouths back, _I love you_ and Santana winks.

"I'll speak to you soon, okay?" Santana says.

Marley nods. "Good luck," is all she replies with, and it's enough.

–

Her callback doesn't lead anywhere and after a week, she's sitting in her apartment staring at that fucking card.

Fuck it, she thinks, when the phone's already ringing, if it doesn't work out, at least she can stop thinking about it all the damn time.

A secretary picks up and Santana tells her that a man gave her a card in the street and so she doesn't know who to ask for. The lady chuckles and says that she'll put Santana through. The phone rings three times before someone picks up.

"Harvey speaking," the man's voice answers, and yes, that's the douche she met.

"Oh my God," Santana answers, "of course your name is _Harvey_, I don't know what I expected."

Harvey is quiet for a second and then chuckles. "This is that coffee girl, isn't it?"

"Nice to know I'm memorable, at least," Santana shoots back.

Harvey laughs again. God, if it's this easy to entertain the man, then this really must not be a good company.

When he settles down, he replies, "Well, I just walked into someone else recently and it was not even half as entertaining as meeting you."

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"So, you an actress?" Harvey asks again.

"What's it to you?"

He laughs. "God, you're a peach, you know that? I'm so sick and tired of these New York girls trying to make it big, and you're just one big breath of fresh air."

Santana sighs, because this man is far too in love with his own awful charisma. "Your point?"

"When I recruit and place a good actor somewhere, it reflects well on me. I haven't had anything exciting cross my desk in months, and then there you are, cursing and yelling about something called _Lima Heights_ and I thought God, this is anything but boring, isn't it?"

"Are you trying to emulate the Joker or what?" Santana says, tired of the riddles.

"My point is," Harvey says, "are you available this week so we can get some headshots done?"

–

So, stepping into the company Harvey works for makes it all a bit more legit.

No porn, no crime bosses, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a sort of recruiting agency that places actors and scoops up part of the fee whenever their clients get picked up for a commercial, music video, film or television spot, whatever they stumble upon, really. Santana thinks this still reminds her of some type of acting pimp gig, but she doesn't say it out loud, of course.

Repeat business obviously means big bucks, which is why they only recruit people they really believe in and rarely take on any run-of-the-mill characters with no talent trying to make it big with daddy's money. Or so Harvey explains it.

Santana just got lucky, she guesses.

–

"See," Marley says on Skype, later, "I told you things would work out sooner or later."

"It is something," Santana agrees. "I mean, they can land me something or they won't, but yeah. It's something."

"Don't be so negative," Marley chastises, "it'll be great."

"I'm negative by nature, that's why I have you to do the rest," Santana teases.

Marley rolls her eyes. "You're awful. Now I won't give you the present I wanted to."

"Oh, presents," Santana says. "I promise I'll be good from now on."

Marley just laughs and pulls a backpack on her bed. "Remember that awesome sound system Brittany used to help make your showreel?"

"Hmm?"

"She kinda gave it to me before she left," Marley says. "She said it was so I can do more with the songs I write than just have the glee club perform it."

"That's so thoughtful of her. Have you sold your record yet?" Santana winks.

Marley laughs. "I'm not Mercedes, no. But I have gotten some tracks down."

Santana knows how Marley sometimes gets about this stuff, so she doesn't want to pry, even though she's burning to hear some of it. Actually, she's been burning to listen to every single beat for a long time because Brittany had told her about the gift even before she gave it to Marley – but Santana has patiently waited for Marley to feel confident enough to tell her about it, and well, here they are.

"That's awesome," Santana says simply, waiting for Marley to open up instead.

"I... there's one about you, and I– Well, most of them are about you," Marley says, "but I wanted to play you a specific one if you–"

"Yes please dear God," Santana answers quickly, because she wants Marley to always feel comfortable sharing her work with her.

Marley laughs and blushes, then clicks something on her laptop. "Ready?"

Santana nods, and then some soft music starts playing, mostly a piano with some strings laid over it, and while Santana can hear the piano part is a recording of Marley playing herself, the other instruments are probably a product from some type of computer studio system that Marley laid out over it, and fuck, Marley is so clever sometimes.

Then Marley's voice comes out of the speakers, singing some beautifully composed words about love and joy and how she feels about them, and God, Santana was not prepared for a truck of emotions to hit her like this. By the time the song is finished, Santana's wiping at her eyes a bit and Marley's smiling at her softly and Jesus, this isn't fair.

"Next time," Santana says through her tears, "you better wait for me to be in the same vicinity as you before so I can tackle hug you when you pull something like that out again."

–

Time seems to fly by quickly after that.

Santana's birthday passes, which only serves to make her feel like a total cradle robber since she is now officially twenty while Marley is still seventeen. The feeling lessens somewhat when she reminds herself that Marley's eighteenth birthday is only around the corner, and that too comes by fast.

Somewhere in between there in April also lies their one year anniversary, though both Marley and Santana neglect to keep tabs on things like that because Santana wants every day together to be special, no matter how long they've been dating or what specific day it is. Santana does admit, when calling Marley, that she wishes that could at least spend the time celebrating with Marley, but similarly, she just wants to be around Marley all the time no matter the occasion, so.

Santana's set to go to Lima to visit in two weeks when the gets the call. She puts the phone down, a bit dazed, but then picks it right back up again to ring Marley.

Marley's at regionals in Miami this year, but Santana hopes they're not too busy with prepping right now, and she's more than stoked when Marley picks up on the fourth ring.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" Santana asks quickly, because it's late in the afternoon and the competition's tomorrow. "I can call back if you guys are rehearsing."

"Not at all, we just had dinner. Was about to call you anyway" Marley says. "What's up? You sound... _antsy_?"

"I have news."

"As do I."

"You do?" Santana asks. "What's your news?"

"On the bus here, the club had a little bit of a... Well, I guess you could call it a bonding moment, where everyone was, to be awfully contrived about it, _baring their soul_ and what not, and long story short, they know about us now. And well, about me now."

"That's so brave, Marley. "I'm so happy for you. How'd they take it?"

"It's the glee club, San," Marley says jokingly. "It's not like I'm going to be ostracized from a group of misfits. But," Marley adds, and Santana can tell in her tone that Marley's doing that thing where she bites her lip to try and suppress how pleased she is with something, "it felt really good anyway."

Santana sighs. "I wish I could kiss you right now."

"You have no idea," Marley agrees. "Now, your news."

"Well, it's completely obsolete in the face of the awesome news I just got," Santana says, laughing when she hears Marley object. Acquiescing, she says, "Creepy Harvey just called me." Santana exhales. "He got me booked on a commercial."

The sound Marley makes at the end of the phone is not human, but Santana smiles anyway, because apparently being in love makes even pterodactyl screeches alluring.

"It's nothing big," Santana adds, "just some toothpaste ad for some skeevy small brand. But it's something that's gonna be out there, so."

"Of course it's big, Santana," Marley says, and Santana fears her girlfriend might die from excitement. "This is where it all starts. You can't doubt me, it's in the relationship rulebook."

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't exist," Santana chimes in.

"And stop calling Harvey creepy," Marley continues, unperturbed. "I know you're only doing that because you're secretly impressed with him."

"Is mind reading in the relationship rulebook too?" Santana asks.

Marley chuckles. It's silent for a while before Santana hears Marley's quiet voice saying, "God, I wish I could kiss _you_ right now.

And well, Santana can keep on repeating that it's only two more weeks until that can happen, but that doesn't make the wait any less difficult, and so she just sighs into the phone and listens to Marley breathing, closing her eyes and pretending Marley's closer.

–

The commercial is weird.

Santana plays pretend besties with another actress on the set of a some wannabe sleepover type concept, where they pretend that normal girls get fucking ecstatic over the idea of some toothpaste. She doesn't have to say anything, just smile and look hot – for fucking toothpaste, what the fuck – but that's easy enough, so.

Regardless of the strange outfits and the overabundance of toothpaste and the slight awkwardness that comes with being a first timer... Well.

She can't help but feel ridiculously at home.

–

This is a feeling that's repeated a while later, when she flies into Marley's arms a the airport and shit, this feels good.

She only remembers, hours later, that she has something she wanted to give to Marley. Obviously her brain is befuddled from a whole day of rolling around her bed with Marley, catching up in the sweetest of ways. She almost forgot to eat because she lost track of time, but the unfortunate incident of her mother coming into her room while Marley was on top of her sucking on her neck kept her from accidentally starving, so _fucking thanks, mom_, Santana thinks.

And now it's dark already and Marley's spooning her under the covers and they're halfway to drifting off to sleep, when a lightbulb goes on in Santana's head.

Putting the nightlight on and completely disorientating Marley by sitting up quickly, Santana jumps up and pulls out an envelope from her suitcase. Marley sits up and rubs at her eyes, asking what's wrong, and Santana just plonks down next to her on the bed and hands Marley the envelope.

"What's this?" Marley asks sleepily.

"You know the commercial paid a ludicrous mount of money for a single day on set, so, uh, consider it a late birthday present of sorts," Santana answers. She's sure Marley's about to scold her because they agreed to only do Christmas presents this year, so she adds, "But it's really a gift for me too, for both of us."

"Is it lingerie?" Marley asks, and what?

Firstly, how is a fucking bra going to fit in an envelope? And secondly, that would be like buying herself a fucking awesome gift but only getting to constantly stare at a wrapped version of it, so no.

"Of course not," Santana says simply. "Just open it."

Marley does and when she takes out the two tickets inside, she just kind of stares at them blankly with her mouth slightly open. When she doesn't say anything, Santana awkwardly clears her throat and tries to explain.

"I thought we could shake things up and you could spend the holidays in New York with me this year." Marley doesn't react and Santana tries to salvage things. "I... I know the return flight gives you three weeks to stay there, but we can always change the dates if you think that's too long a time or something?"

"Santana, this is wonderful," Marley says suddenly. "It's so perfect, and oh my God, I would _love_ to spend three weeks in New York with you."

"But?" Santana asks, sensing it coming.

"It's just that," I don't know if I can leave my mom here. She–"

"Is cordially invited to Christmas at the Lopez house instead."

Marly nods, thinking it over for a few seconds. "I don't want you to think I'm not excited, because this gift is so, so incredible," Marley says finally. "But can I just speak to my mom first before I accept it? Please?"

"Of course, Marley. Of course. C'mere," Santana says, pulling Marley into a soft kiss.

She gently pulls the tickets out of Marley's hands, puts them on the nightstand and then turns the light off before snuggling into Marley again, falling asleep within seconds.

–

The next morning though, she gets a phone call that changes everything.

She's still dreaming of ice skating with Marley at Rockerfeller Plaza when the ringing of her phone pulls her from her deep slumber and she's about to kill whoever is on the end of that line, she swears. She turns away from Marley and blindly reaches for the phone.

Goddammit, she thinks when she sees the caller. Now she can't even be properly angry.

"You know I'm incredibly fond of you, Harvey," Santana answers, "but it's hard to remember why when you decide to call me at five-thirty in the morning."

"This is the city that never sleeps, what'd you expect?"

Santana is too sleepy and grumpy to think up a snarky way to tell him that right now she's in a city that rather enjoys its sleep, thank you very much. Instead she just yawns and waits for him to continue.

"Great job with the toothpaste," Harvey goes on. "They hardly could believe it when I insisted that it was your very first set."

"Flattering as that may be, I do hope that it's not the reason you're calling right now."

"Well, it reflects well on me, so I'm sure you understand why that's important," Harvey jokes, and Santana rolls her eyes. "But no, I thought I'd just let you know that you're on to play in Guy Sebastian's new music video."

Suddenly, Santana is awake. "Come again?"

"I'll mail you the nitty gritty later, but the shoot is in two weeks so I just wanted you to make sure you clear your schedule," Harvey says. "I'd also tell you not to fuck this up, but I know you well enough now to be sure that's not needed. Toodles!"

And then the phone's dead before Santana can even reply. She sends Harvey a text that reads, _You didn't even give me a chance to say thanks, bitch_, then puts down the phone, wondering if their professional relationship is in any way appropriate.

She looks next to her to see her girlfriend still sleeping soundly, able to sleep through a fucking tsunami, Santana's sure. She thinks about how she was supposed to stay in Lima for a month and sighs, but then takes a few moments to come up with a back-up plan.

Then she rolls on top of Marley and starts kissing her neck. Soon, Marley's rousing and Santana feels hands come up and grip her waist. Marley's body arches into hers and a faint moan escapes Marley's lips.

"Mmm, Tana," Marley whimpers, and then Santana moves up to kiss her, slipping her tongue into Marley's mouth immediately. Marley wastes no time in responding, smiling against Santana's mouth like she can feel how energized Santana is through her touch.

Marley pulls away and looks up at Santana with a lazy smile, and holy fucking sun in the sky she is just too remarkable for words. Santana smiles back at her and slides off, rolling them both on their sides to face each other.

"Why are you so chirpy at..." Marley leans over Santana's shoulder to spot the clock and when she does, she pouts. "Santana, I love you, but it's barely six in the morning! In summer!"

"Uh-huh," Santana says calmly, scooting closer to Marley and throwing an arm over Marley's waist to settle it on her lower back. Marley rests her own hand on Santana's chest and tangles their legs together. "So, I have good news and bad news."

"Bad news first," Marley says, yawning.

"I have to go back home in two weeks time."

Marley seems more alert and awake than before and Santana would be happy if not for the extreme sadness that falls over Marley's face.

"Why?" Marley asks in a small voice.

"Harvey just called," Santana says, "and told me I got cast in Guy Sebastian's new music video."

Marley's hugging her before she knows it and whispering congratulations over and over again, and then she's pulling back and kissing every inch of Santana's face she can reach and Santana actually fucking _giggles_ because of it.

When she finishes assaulting Santana's face, Marley asks, "Is that the good news? Because I have no idea who that guy is, but it's a music video, and that's so awesome."

Santana shakes her head. "That good news is that I found a solution to our Christmas conundrum, and now I have a new deal for you. It's uh, it's..."

Marley has now turned her attention to Santana's neck and Santana's struggling to remember what her own name is, never mind her deal. Marley lifts up her head slightly and smiles against Santana's cheek. "Go on," she whispers into Santana's ear, all cheeky, then lightly bites Santana's earlobe, and holy shit this is not helping matters at all.

Santana takes a deep breath and tries to concentrate. "Because our time is cut short, I was thinking that we could change the flying dates so you could come visit me this summer instead, and we still get to do Lima holidays." Santana bites her lip because shit, _Marley's tongue Marley's tongue Marley's tongue_. "And then we can have an even longer holiday this time around, like, well, maybe spend the whole freaking summer in New York?"

Marley slowly pulls away from Santana's neck to look at her. "We can do that?"

"Of course," Santana says. It'll cost her a couple of bucks, but whatever, if the music video pays anything like the commercial, it won't be a problem. Even if it doesn't, Santana would go broke if it means getting to be with Marley so long.

Marley just lunges forward and then Santana's being smothered again, in the most brilliant of ways, and she guesses that's a yes.

–

The music video end up paying even better than the commercial because, not only does the shoot go on for three days, but it also turns out that's playing Guy's main love interest.

It's mostly a lot of walking around looking sultrily at the camera, which sometimes acts as Guy's point of view, and the rest is acting all couple-y with the man himself, holding hands and goofing off as he sings to her, but thank fuck they never have to kiss.

The whole thing is shot in a simple way on the streets of New York, as well as some loft-type set, and walking around in the city while being filmed makes the whole experience even more surreal and special for Santana. Another thing that makes is special is that whenever she looks behind the camera, she sees Marley there, staring at her with this glowing face – like, that's probably what Santana looks like whenever she watches Marley perform, and it just gives Santana such a confidence boost, it's insane.

And of course, whenever she has to stare lovingly at Guy's face, she just sneaks a quick look at her girlfriend, getting into the real zone before facing her partner with that look in her eyes. Of course, even if Marley wasn't there, Santana luckily has her whole high school experience to draw from if she ever needs to act in love with a guy again, but the added Marley benefit, she knows, just adds so much more to her performance.

(And it really is performing, Santana thinks, this acting thing. It's a different kind of performing than she ever imagined herself doing, but she has fallen in love with it nonetheless, and it's just as satisfying as singing on stage.)

The best thing about it all, though, is that at the end of each day, she gets to go home with Marley, together to _their_ place, even if it's only temporary, and if that isn't the best fucking feeling in the whole world, Santana will be damned.

–

For the first week Marley is in New York – bar the first few days dedicated to the music video, of course – Santana shows her all the touristy hotspots and her two workplaces, as well as the coffee shop she worked at when she first arrived here.

But the only thing Marley stays enamoured with, right through their trip to Liberty Island, the Empire building and Central Park, is the idea of a fucking New York street vendour hotdog.

When Santana finally takes Marley out with the intention of finding one, Marley bounces on her heels in excitement when they actually stand in a queue, and Santana just smiles as she looks on. Finally, they're walking down the street, holding a hotdog in one hand and tangling their fingers with the other, and Marley actually fucking _moans_ a bit when she bites into her hotdog, and Santana quickly looks at her own one, trying to regulate her breathing.

"Think I can live off this for the next two and a half months?" Marley asks seriously.

Santana chuckles. "I'm sure you can. Maybe we can do a _Supersize Me_-like doccie on it?"

Marley just laughs and squeezes Santana's hand, and Santana isn't sure she'll ever be as happy as she is in this moment, walking around in the city of her dreams with the girl of her dreams at her side.

–

By the first weekend, they've settled into some kind of routine.

Santana, used to being up early and ready for work, showers in the morning and by the time she's dressed and out of the bathroom, she finds a sleepy Marley up and trudging around the kitchen, making coffee.

Santana decided to take some time off work while Marley visits, since she's been working at both the karaoke bar and the bakery so long that she can manage to swing it, only coming in for a shift at the bakery on Wednesday mornings, where she mostly just looks at Marley, sitting in a far corner, reading a book. Plus, she's saved up so much cash that she can afford to have a little holiday – well, thanks to that and her parents, who have been so impressed with her managing so well on her own that they have decided to help her with half her rent for another year of staying in New York.

Usually she and Marley make breakfast together and by the afternoon they're out in the city, exploring and sightseeing and taking thousands of pictures together. Then Santana takes Marley out for dinner – sometimes on a nice proper restaurant date and sometimes just for some take-out, whatever they're in the mood for, really – and then they go home, watch a movie or just sleep. Marley always showers just before bed and is spectacularly warm when Santana snuggles in close, ridiculously content.

It all feels, to Santana, like the most perfect and natural thing, being together in this way, and she can't help but think, for the past couple of nights before she falls asleep, how Marley's going into her last year of school and what possibilities that holds for them.

And at these moments, she just wants to wake Marley up and interrogate her about her post-school plans, but she doesn't want to push and pressure, and they've got the whole summer yet, so she just holds Marley tighter, whispering that she loves her before finally giving in to sleep, too.

–

After being selfish with spending time with Marley for the first week, Santana finally accepts her friends' nagging pleas to come out with them the following weekend. And so after yet another week of exploring – it's like Marley doesn't tire of the place, and if she already spent so much time finding all the hidden corners of Lima, Santana can only imagine how she's enjoying doing the same with a much larger New York – Santana and Marley spend their early Friday night getting ready to go to one of Santana's all time favourite clubs.

Since Marley didn't really bring – and doesn't really own – any clothes fit for clubbing, Santana puts her in one of her own cocktail dresses. Though, admittedly, this is partly a ploy to give Santana the chance to ogle Marley's legs, as the dress already sits rather high above Santana's knee, so she can only imagine where the hem will fall on Marley's thigh.

"I don't think I can wear this," comes Marley's voice from inside the bathroom. "I... There's a lot of skin showing. And the covered skin... Well, it's tight. Like, _tight_."

Santana bites her lip, because, well, duh. "I'm sure it's fine, Marley. Just let me see," she yells back from the kitchen.

Santana hears a long sigh and then the door's opening slowly and Marley's body appears inch by inch and _oh God_ Santana almost falls off her seat on the kitchen counter.

"Wow," Santana breathes out. "Just... Wow."

Marley blushes and looks down, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the dress. When Santana's sure she can stand, she walks over to Marley and the close proximity almost sends her to the floor again.

"Marley," Santana starts, "Jesus, you're so sexy, I can't..." Santana shakes her head, then reaches out and takes both of Marley's hands in her own, tangling their fingers together. She looks back up at Marley's face. "But you don't have to wear this, I'm sorry, I can see you're uncomfortable.

Marley smiles, relieved. "Thank God."

Santana laughs. She walks over to find Marley a nice sexy blouse to wear with some tight jeans instead.

"Plus," Santana adds as she rifles through her clothes, "you're just, you know. You're a little bit too sexy, wearing that, so. Well, I should be the only one that gets to see that."

She glances back to see Marley raising an eyebrow at her. Santana just rolls her eyes and tosses over a light blue top and grabs a pair of Marley's jeans that are lodged in the drawer assigned to hold some of Marley's clothes.

Santana walks over and holds the jeans out to Marley, who just stands there biting her lip. Marley pulls on the jeans until Santana's stumbling forward so Marley can pull her into a paralyzing kiss. Like, literally, when Marley backs out of the kiss, Santana just stands frozen where she is until Marley reappears dressed in her new outfit, not any less sexy than before.

When they arrive at the club – getting in without preamble since one of Santana's mates has some stellar connections, thank fuck – they're bombarded by Santana's friends who all want to catch up with Santana and fawn over Marley at the same time.

Predictably, everyone falls head over heels for Marley within minutes, and Santana feels exceptionally pleased seeing them all interact like that. Santana leaves Marley in the hands of Vic – he's one of the chefs at the deli who makes Santana the most rocking pancakes whenever she asks for them – while she and two of her girlfriends heads over to the bar.

The rest of the night is spent in drunken jubilation. Both she and Marley get ridiculous levels of alcohol happy, share some very hot and heavy dancing and just generally party up a storm with her friends, hitting up three more clubs before retiring for the night.

By the time they're stumbling out of the taxi and back up to her apartment, Santana realizes that her life is just so fucking perfect right now, and no matter how much she drank tonight, there's just no way she can find it in herself to cry.

–

The following weekend, Marley and Santana find themselves so fatigued from three weeks of constant touring and partying that they decide to have a lazy weekend in instead.

When Santana proposed the idea when they woke up earlier this morning, Marley immediately wanted to build a fucking blanket fort. Whipped as fuck, Santana spent the whole day moving furniture and hanging blankets off every available surface. And now, they're snuggled up in their fort on a relatively cold Friday night, eating pizza and watching some films.

And Santana can't help but grudgingly admit that no, she doesn't just want to stay in here for the weekend, but she'd happily become a hermit and move into the fort for the rest of her natural life.

–

The next morning, Santana wakes up to the lovely smell of reheated pizza.

She opens her eyes to find a slice under her nose, and blinks up to see an amused Marley smiling down at her.

"Works every time," Marley smirks, and Santana just rolls her eyes and pushes herself up. The buttons of her pajama shirt have shifted all the way to the other side of her boob and she pushes it straight and fixes her hair, still half asleep, hearing Marley chuckle softly at her dishevelment.

Santana just sticks her tongue out at Marley, who says, "Attractive," before handing Santana a plate with her own slice on it.

They have a silent breakfast, finishing their slices quickly and occasionally stealing glances at each other, and Santana just can't place it, but Marley's been looking at her a bit weirdly ever since she woke up. Not like, bad weird, but just very different than usual.

As soon as Santana gulps down her last bite, she becomes aware of a hand on her thigh and Marley nuzzling her neck before pressing her lips to it, and oh, right, so this is what Marley wanted. Santana pushes both their plates off the mattress and stretches out between the blankets and then Marley is on top of her, pushing her tongue into Santana's mouth.

And well, yeah. Pizza, morning make-outs and a fucking blanket fort, this is what life should be made of, Santana thinks.

Marley whimpers and Santana arches up into her, rolling them over and then going to work on making her mark on Marley's neck. Hands tangle in her hair and then Santana's being pulled up and she kisses Marley again. Marley runs her hands down to Santana's neck and lightly scratches at the back of it before moving them down to rest on Santana's collarbone. Santana's own hand runs up and down Marley's waist slowly, while the other gently rubs circles on Marley's shoulder.

And then Santana becomes acutely aware of nimble fingers loosening the second button on her sleeping shirt already, and shit, when did the first one go loose?

Santana freezes and pulls away, putting her own hand over Marley's to stop her actions from going any further.

"Marley?" Santana asks. "What–"

"I want you," Marley interrupts, voice a strong whisper. "I'm ready. I want to."

Santana frowns as her eyes flick between Marley's own. "I... Marley, are you–"

"I want you," Marley says again. "I want to make love to you."

Then she takes advantage of Santana's slackening grip to move on to the third button on Santana's shirt, then the fourth, and then Santana's hands are stopping her again.

"But I..." Santana shakes her head, still a bit stumped at this development. "I want it to be special for you. Like, you know, nice dinner, romance, candles, uh... A hotel, maybe, I don't know, all of that?"

Marley smiles up at Santana, bringing up a hand to cup Santana's cheek. "San, I'm in the most wonderful city in the world with the most wonderful girl in the universe," she says. "No one's waiting on us, we have nowhere to be. It's just us, just you and me and this moment right now. It _is_ special. It's perfect."

Santana just nods and releases Marley's hands, letting them continue their path and letting Marley lean up to kiss her softly, because who is Santana to argue with that logic?

–

Marley is absolutely radiant in the early morning light, and Santana takes things slowly.

She kisses Marley softly and deeply, holding her body suspended above Marley's own. She's acutely aware of her open top and the fact that she isn't wearing a bra, as well as of Marley's warm hands that are currently stroking her stomach, and God, it's almost too much already. She breaks the kiss and then looks down at Marley, stroking a thumb across her cheek.

"I love you so much, Marley," Santana whispers reverently, because right now she needs Marley to believe that more than ever.

"I know, sweetheart," Marley whispers back. "And I love you."

And then they're kissing again, tender and slow, tongues stroking with purpose. Marley pushes into Santana and pushes herself up on her elbows until she's sitting up, and Santana shifts so she's straddling Marley. They don't break the kiss once, not even when Marley's hands come up to slowly push Santana's shirt down her shoulders. Then Marley's hands comes to rest on Santana's waist and Santana reaches up to drape her arms over Marley's shoulders, making sure to keep the same bit of space between their bodies.

Marley pulls away and rests her forehead against Santana's. When Santana opens her eyes, Marley is already staring back at her.

"Can I..." Marley bites her lip, and squeezes Santana's waist. "Can I look?"

Santana nods against Marley's forehead and then Marley's eyes are shifting downward and she lets out a small gasp at the sight of Santana's uncovered breasts. And Santana only breathes in deeply because Marley just has this uncanny ability to make her feel so beautiful, so loved, so happy, and she's just all around so overwhelmed right now. To calm herself, she focuses on the task at hand, tugs at the hem of Marley's shirt and lifts it until it's discarded next to Santana's own.

Santana doesn't look down – _can't_ look down – just keeps eye contact as she gently presses Marley to lie down again and reconnects their lips. Marley's hands run from her back up over her shoulders until Marley's holding Santana's face as she kisses her, and Santana just focuses on supporting herself on her elbows.

Marley's hands move down, down, and then she's pulling away from the kiss with questioning eyes and Santana nods in answer. And then Marley's cupping her breast, palm rubbing over Santana's nipple and Santana closes her mouth to keep from fucking hissing at how fucking good it feels.

Santana dips her head down and leaves kisses from Marley's ear to her collarbone and almost dies when she hears Marley's breathless whimpers in her ear. Marley's touch becomes more confident and Santana's hips jerk down in response, making Marley full out moan and _holy fucking shit_.

There's hands on her neck then, pulling her up and then Marley's lips find hers, much more insistent than before. Santana's left hand rests on Marley's ribcage, waiting for an okay to move it upward, which comes in the form of Marley reaching down and putting Santana's hand there herself. And then Santana's holding soft flesh and Marley's arching up into her and Santana just tries to breath and not pass out.

She doesn't know if she's just having such a violent reaction to all of this because it's been well over a year since she's had sex, or if Marley just makes her feel so many things already that to have a physical realization of it is making her dizzy in the most delightful way. But either way, she just soaks in every second of it and breathes, breathes, and fuck, she loves Marley so incredibly much, like, an unreal amount.

When Santana pinches Marley's nipple, Marley gasps intro her mouth and she feels Marley's one hand in her hair tug in response, and the other on her chest squeeze. She kisses down Marley's jaw, lower, lower, until she reaches the space between Marley's breasts. She looks up to find Marley staring down at her adoringly.

Santana reaches for the hand Marley is currently resting on her bicep, and brings it to her mouth, placing a soft kiss there, and Marley just smiles sweetly. Marley nods, once, and then Santana places Marley's hand back on her shoulder and turns her head toward Marley's right breast, slowly kissing around it before wrapping her lips around a nipple.

Marley squirms and lets out these breathy little moans as Santana nips, licks and sucks, and if Santana could fucking bottle this feeling growing in her, right now, she wouldn't hesitate for a second.

She moves on to the left breast but all too soon Marley is pulling her up again and kissing her, hard, moving her hands down to push at Santana's short, and wow, yeah, Marley really _is_ ready right now.

Santana pulls away and kisses Marley's forehead once before sitting up and moving down to the end of the bed, up on her knees at Marley's feet. She shimmies out of her shorts and underwear as she keeps her eyes on Marley, and she can see Marley trying her very best to keep eye contact with Santana instead of _looking_. Santana bends over forward and places her hands on the waistband of Marley's sweatpants, running her thumb over the soft skin of Marley's hips.

Marley's fingers move down to come give the first push, and after that Santana takes over, hooking her fingers in the sweatpants and Marley's panties simultaneously.

She keeps her eyes locked only on Marley's as she slowly pulls the garments down Marley's legs. When it's lying at the end of the bed, Santana just looks at Marley for a few moments, resting her hands on Marley's shins. Marley is the first one brave enough to break, shifting her eyes downward, taking in Santana's naked body. Santana follows immediately, eyes roaming over the expanse of Marley's naked skin, and she gulps, because –

"Stunning," Santana whispers. "Marley, you're so..."

Santana just exhales the rest and Marley simply nods in agreement, eyes still focused on Santana's body. Santana can see the flicker of nervousness on Marley's features, so she moves closer to appease her. She puts her hands on Marley's knees, slowly spreading her legs so Santana can move forward and nestle her hips between them. Santana comes to rest on her elbows again, lowering her body against Marley's, gasping at all the bare skin pressed against her own.

Marley's hands settle on Santana's lower back and Santana can feel Marley's legs shift ever so slightly upward to bracket Santana's hips, making her feel _oh so_ very safe, in this position, in this moment. Santana nuzzles Marley's nose with her own.

"You still okay?" Santana asks softly. "You can... I mean, you– We can stop at any time, okay? You just need to–"

"You're perfect," is all Marley says, in reply before kissing Santana again, and that seems to be the end of that.

They spend long minutes just kissing, hands running all over, trying to get to know each other's nude bodies. Marley's touch is like a flame licking across her body, and Santana just kisses, kisses, kisses Marley, delighting in the burn.

When Marley starts undulating into Santana – it's only small, imperceptible movements, but they feel so closely connected right now that to Santana it feels like waves – Santana pulls away and stares down at Marley.

Santana's right arm rests next to Marley's shoulder, letting her hand lie under Marley's head, holding her scalp, while Marley's left arm is hooked under Santana's right, her own hand spread out over Santana's shoulder blade.

Copying Santana's earlier move, Marley tangles her right hand with Santana's left, bringing it to her lips to place a small kiss on it before placing Santana's hand on her hip. She brings her own hand back up to hold onto Santana's neck, and Santana realizes that this is it, this is the moment right here.

"I love you," Marley says, and Santana shivers.

"I love you, too," Santana answers.

Santana moves her hand then, slowly round from Marley's hip until her fingers collide with wetness, and the hand on her shoulder blade tightens. Marley wears a slight frown and for a second, Santana panics that she hurt Marley, but then she remembers that no, that's normal. Then Santana also remembers that she is the very first person in the whole wide world to ever touch Marley like this, and the moment almost feels too big again, but she focuses on moving her fingers softly through Marley instead, centering herself and her thoughts again.

Marley's breathing turns heavy and Santana continues to move tenderly, just trying to get Marley to get used to the touch. When Santana tilts her hand up, pushing slightly against Marley's clit, Marley groans and closes her eyes, and Santana smiles. She leans down and kisses Marley deeply, enjoying the way Marley moans into her mouth, how Marley's fingers tightens and slacks with every movement of Santana's fingers.

Eventually, Marley's hips start rising up into Santana, and Santana moves her hand lower.

She pulls back and presses a kiss to Marley's cheek, circling her fingers. Marley bites her lip, looking at Santana with hooded eyes.

"Is it..." Santana starts, but then shakes her head. "Are you ready for... that?" she asks instead, hoping Marley understands.

Marley just nods, and Santana kisses her forehead again.

"Tell me if hurt you," Santana says.

"I trust you," Marley whispers back, pressing a kiss to Santana's nose, and Santana smiles tenderly down at her.

Santana moves her thighs forward a bit, letting Marley spread and lift her legs further, lifting them a bit higher up toward Santana's waist, and then brings her hand closer again. She presses one finger into Marley, slowly, sliding in easily because Marley is so amazingly wet for her. Marley is also amazingly warm and tight, and Santana and Marley both groan at the feeling of Santana being inside.

Santana resumes kissing Marley as she slowly moves in and out, helping Marley adapt to the feeling. And God, feeling Marley move against her, feeling herself inside of Marley, seeing Marley lying there in the early sunlight, hearing Marley whimper at all the new sensations is just altogether much too wonderful. Santana is just– There aren't any words. Everything is _perfect_.

Santana pulls out completely and then sticks the tips of two fingers in, then feels Marley tense slightly beneath her. She drops soft kisses all over Marley's cheek to calm her, cooing a soft, "Relax your body, sweetheart," in Marley's ear. Santana lifts her head and looks for anything amiss on Marley's face as she pushes in slightly deeper.

Marley gasps at the feeling, and halfway there, she winces and Santana immediately stills. Marley tenses again, Santana can feel it around her fingers. She places more kisses on Marley's jaw, whispering, "Breathe, darling, breathe," as she goes.

Marley does, exhaling softly and slowly, and Santana presses in all the way.

Another gasp leaves Marley's mouth and she digs her nails into Santana's back and neck, and Santana moans, too, because fuck, Marley feels _amazing_.

Santana leans down and connects her lips to Marley's once more, holding her fingers still as she waits for Marley to adjust. When Marley does, moving slightly and lifting her legs so Santana gets pulled in deeper, Santana starts moving slowly and _fucking shitcakes_ nothing in the world can possibly be more awesome than this, Santana thinks.

Her movements are slow, slow, so fucking slow and every time she pulls out and presses back in – so tenderly as if Marley could break – Marley lets out these heavy sighs. It's uncomfortable at first, Santana can tell, but it only takes about three slow thrusts for Marley's sighs to turn into whimpers, and Santana knows Marley's used to it, Marley's _in_ that feeling right now.

Marley moans into her mouth with every thrust, and God, Santana can just do this all fucking day. In and out, in and out, slowly but surely. Finally, Santana feels Marley's hips roll up into her in turn, and then they're moving together, pace slow and deep, just like their kisses.

When Marley's hips start pushing into her harder, Santana picks up her pace, breaking free of their kiss and looking down at Marley as she moves inside of her.

Marley's eyes doesn't leave Santana's once, not even when Santana's hips start moving with her hand, pressing into Marley harder, deeper. She just stares up at Santana, eyes halfway open and mouth hanging slack, body following Santana's motions and she slides to and fro.

There are these sounds coming out of Marley's mouth, not loud and not whimpers, merely a natural reaction to what Santana's doing to her, and Santana revels in seeing Marley let go like this. She's giving her body over to Santana, completely, looking at her with such trust – thrown into such deep pleasure – that Santana almost spontaneously combusts on the spot.

It's heaven. Pure, unadulterated fucking heaven.

Santana goes faster, then. She makes sure she's still not hurting Marley in any way, but Marley welcomes the change in pace, left hand now moving up to tangle in Santana's hair and right coming to rest on Santana's lower back, feeling as Santana moves her whole body along with the fingers within her.

Marley is so, so wet. She becomes more vocal, loses more control. As Santana thrusts into her, she sees and hears Marley moan out on every push – _oh, oh, Santana_ – and she just speeds up, presses deeper, wanting to get as close to Marley as she possibly can.

She's breathing heavy now, too, from the exhaustion of moving against Marley, in perfect curving movements, helping her hand along with the motion of her body. She can sense Marley wants to kiss her, but doesn't have the breath, and so she just moves her head down and places her cheek against Marley's, starting to curl her fingers to help Marley get some reprieve.

The sound Marley lets loose, when she does that, will be something burned into Santana's mind for the rest of her life, she's sure. It's a pained type of moan, strangled in a sense, like Marley wants to scream out but can't, but purely because of pleasure and not because of pain.

Marley's head twists up against her pillow, exposing her neck completely, and Santana takes advantage of this moment to mark it, because Marley is _hers_.

Santana can feel it coming, she can tell by the way Marley's pressing up into her and the change in her breathing that she's close. She adds her thumb to the mix and then lifts herself back up again so she can see, and finds Marley arching up back into the pillow with her eyes closed, mouth open and desperate for air.

It's so goddamn beautiful that Santana doesn't have words for it, and so she just uses the hand that's under Marley's neck to push her head back to face her, and Marley does, but keeps her eyes closed.

"Marley," Santana husks out. "Marley, baby, look at me."

Marley opens her eyes then, glazed and filled with pleasure, and fuck, the only thing Santana can think and feel and see is _love_.

Santana puts everything into her movements then, holding eye contact with Marley as she curls and pushes and slides in harder, harder, harder. Marley doesn't stop looking at her, doesn't break eye contact once and Santana just watches in awe as this girl looks back at her with so much trust and love in her eyes that it almost breaks her, right there.

It takes three more thrusts – in, out, in, out, in – and then Marley's closing her eyes, body lifting off the bed and contracting in the most beautiful way imaginable, gasping out for breath before moaning out her release, and Santana just watches, waits, takes it all in, because it's all so damn fucking marvelous that she can't quite believe it's happening.

Marley doesn't let go of Santana at all, during all of this, instead tries to bring her closer, and Santana just stays there, keeping her eyes on Marley as she contracts and releases, bringing her movements to a slow halt. She can feel the last couple of pulses of Marley around her fingers, and then Marley lets out a deep sigh, and shit, if Santana were to die right now that would totally be a-o-fucking-kay.

As her breathing evens out, Marley finally opens her eyes and when she looks at Santana, it's like everything between them has changed. And Santana guesses it has, considering what just happened, but the look is more like, everything between them is elevated, somehow, and it's just more than it ever was before.

When Santana leans down and kisses Marley, she feels the beads of sweat on Marley's forehead, and how Marley struggles to keep her lips attached to Santana for longer than a few seconds, and she smiles, feeling how Marley is just surrendering, letting herself go completely.

She pulls out of Marley, slowly, relishing every last bit of wetness left over on her hand.

Santana wants to know what Marley tastes like, but perhaps it's too early for that yet, and so she just wipes her hand on her thigh and keeps on kissing Marley as she moves one leg over Marley's own, coming to lie down next to Marley's body.

Marley continues kissing her, alternating between pressing her lips to Santana's and raking in lungs full of air. Santana keeps her body connected to Marley's at all times, not wanting to let go now that she know how it feels like, having Marley naked and pressed up against her like this.

Ultimately, Santana breaks the kiss and just presses her face against Marley's neck, not wanting this moment to stop in any way. She knows it has too, but that doesn't mean she can't prolong it as long as she can.

Before she knows, it, though, Marley's shifted their bodies so she rolls on top of Santana, and Santana just lies back into the pillow, surprised at this turn of events.

She smiles into the kiss Marley ignites, appreciating the sentiment, because Marley is far too amazing a human being.

"Marley," she says, pushing Marley away from her a bit, "you don't need to... This was about you, you know."

Marley just shakes her head and presses her lips to Santana's again.

When she pulls back, she just says, "It's _our_ first time, Santana, not just mine," and Santana relents, because, well.

There's that fucking brilliant logic again.

–

When she wakes up later that night, having slept the whole afternoon after their morning episode, Santana can feel light kisses being pressed to her chest. She smiles, thinking about what happened earlier, and the smile only widens when she opens her eyes to see Marley looking up at her from where she lies on Santana's shoulder.

She can feel Marley's entire body pressing into her own naked side, and if this isn't the best it's ever been, Santana has no clue what will be.

She smiles down at Marley and Marley blushes, burying her face into Santana's neck.

Santana smiles a bit, though she frowns at Marley's behaviour. She rolls onto her side and puts a hand on Marley's chin, bringing it up to face her.

"Hey," Santana whispers, laughing softly when Marley smiles shyly in return. "You alright?"

Marley nods against her, still sporting that shy smile, and Santana guesses it's a cause of being slightly overwhelmed with what transpired between them, and having that to share with each other, now.

"How are you feeling?" Santana asks, softly stroking her hand over Marley's cheek.

Marley smiles at her then, so very gently, and Santana doesn't think this moment can get more perfect.

"Happy," Marley says, wrapping her arm around Santana's middle and pulling her closer. "And somewhat strange. But so very _loved_."

Santana smiles at back at her, because those are the words right there. _Different_, but in the best possible way.

"Me too," Santana echoes.

"Hungry?" Marley asks, and then they're them again, scouring for the last bit of leftover pizza, walking round the kitchen in just their t-shirts and their underwear. Until their stomachs are full and then they're kissing again, and Santana's not sure she'll ever stop wanting Marley now, now that she knows what it's like, getting under Marley's skin.

It's not long before they end up back in the fort again, tugging at each other's close and stretching out against each other, fully naked, eager to explore more of this new territory together.

Santana knows what she wants, honestly, but she doesn't know if Marley's ready yet. To test the waters she swipes her fingers through Marley's wetness, finding it nice to know that she still has the same effect on Marley, and that it wasn't just a first time thing.

She brings her fingers up to her lips, taking her first taste while watching Marley, and the look Marley gives her then is just like, yeah. Maybe it's not moving too fast, then. She kisses Marley's chin quickly before moving down, down, until she's licking below Marley's belly button and then there are hands are scratching at her shoulders and yeah, it's definitely not too soon.

Marley is... Just, wow. Santana feels everything, in this moment, the taste of Marley in the mouth, the feel of Marley's thighs tightening against her head, the fingers of both her hands tangling with Marley's, looking up to see Marley's eyes closed and mouth open, arching up into Santana's mouth... It's all just... _Wow_.

When Marley shakes under Santana, stiffening and screaming and gasping for breath, Santana's heart bursts.

–

They don't leave the apartment for at least two weeks after that.

(Well, there was this one day, when Harvey booked her another commercial, when she went to work, and of course, on Wednesday mornings, when after a few hours at the bakery, Santana and Marley would basically run back home after staring at each other from opposite sides of the shop for Santana's entire shift.)

Santana worries for her health, sometimes, and at other times worries that she's created a type of monster in her girlfriend, but then realizes she's the same really, and that she just can't get enough of Marley. She doesn't think she ever will.

The need to go outside and get some fresh air comes when Quinn calls her, inviting her and Marley over to a party at the Gay Twins' house. Now, Santana has strategically avoided running into Kurt or Rachel for the whole past year she's been in New York, and doesn't understand why Quinn wants to ruin that record for her now.

She really can't deny the request though, when she hears it's going to be one hell of a party, and then Brittany also sends her a text, telling her that she's finally stopping over in New York since Quinn was trying to round up as many buffers as she could between herself and Rachel Berry, so. Santana finds herself more charmed by the prospect of going than ever before.

(Well, that, and Marley had just fucked her into oblivion minutes prior to finding out about this, and then Marley wanted to go as soon as she heard, too, and then, well, Santana is powerless, really.)

They get ready, taking hours because, firstly, they've finally stopped getting dressed in the bathroom now that they've seen each other naked multiple times, and secondly, now that that happens, Santana really can't be blamed for pouncing on Marley when she's just walking around in her panties and nothing more, deciding between outfits.

Thanking herself for letting Marley go through more than one year's worth of yoga lessons, Santana pulls a half naked Marley on top of her and rids them of clothes, then tops Marley and spreads her wide, lifting her one thigh up until it bends right underneath Santana's left arm, while she straddles Marley's left leg. She pushes forward until she feels Marley wet and warm against her, and shit.

They've only scissored once before, why just once she doesn't know, but whatever, she's been caught in some wonderful daze for the last few days and her thoughts don't have much sense. Santana pushes forward and Marley gasps, pressing her hips back up into Santana, and then there's a rhythm, and Santana is rolling her hips faster, faster, faster. Marley's nails dig into Santana's scalp, breathing out _yes, yes, yes_ as Santana picks up the pace, and Santana just feels, feels, feels.

It doesn't take them long – oh right, this is why Santana hasn't done it often, because it's fucking impossible for her to last like this – and then Santana's shouting out Marley's name and Marley's doing the same and Santana falls forward onto her body, spent and happy.

Marley's arms wrap around her middle and pulls her even closer, placing a kiss against her temple, murmuring things about love. And then Santana's phone chimes and she groans, because she knows they're supposed to be at this stupid thing tonight. Marley reaches over and hands Santana her phone, because well, yeah, Santana's limbs are just jelly at this point.

"Where are you?" comes Brittany's voice over the line. "Everyone we know is here already."

Santana and Marley giggles, still caught in post-orgasmic bliss. "We'll be right there," Santana husks out.

Brittany sighs, and Santana can almost imagine her rolling her eyes. "You were totally having sex, weren't you?"

Santana just turns off the phone, and she and Marley laugh while scrambling around for something to wear.

–

So, Rachel and Kurt's loft is pretty awesome, she must admit, but she'll always have a soft spot in her heart for her own, which is basically just a mini version of theirs, so whatever.

They play catch up with Quinn and Brittany while stocking up on drinks – because of course they're bracing themselves for the Rachel reunion later – and Santana finds out that Quinn's doing absolutely fantastic at Yale, drug affinity or not, and that she's topping most of her classes, as expected. Brittany's been all over, really, and Santana loses track of the amount of cities she's visited and people she's met, but it sounds like this is being turned into some feature length _Fondue For Two_ type of documentary, so Santana's happy for her.

Marley asks Brittany about dancing, and Brittany says she's looking into some plans for college, but wants to make sure it's a full out arts programme where she can only spend her time doing what she loves most, and not mess around with numbers so much, like she is forced to in school. Which makes sense, Santana supposes, and then Brittany starts talking about all her one night stands so far, and Marley and Santana just laugh before escaping that conversation, leaving a desperate Quinn behind.

Save yourself, is what Santana whispers in Marley's ear, but is then faced with karma as Rachel Berry appears before them, paying them welcome into her _humble abode_. Santana's about to say that there's nothing humble about Rachel in any way, but Marley just squeezes her hand, and that's the end of that.

"Well, Santana, I must say it is good to see you so radiant and filled with love," Rachel says then, and Santana almost throws up at her choice of words, because that's only okay if Santana says that. Then Rachel turns to Marley. "And little Marley, I can't say I'm surprised by this sapphic turn of events, since the chemistry I felt between you two so long ago on my birthday was sizzling, and it's always good to know I am still an expert at picking those thing up. I fully plan on one day writing a play about witnessing Santana's struggles from afar, but would love to add this new chapter on her becoming comfortable with dating a younger, more inexperienced version of myself."

Sensing Santana is close to strangling something, Marley intervenes again, asking. "Speaking of, Rachel, what about you? Quinn told us about someone named Broody?"

"It's Brody," Rachel corrects, and Santana smirks because Marley obviously knew that, "and he's doing wonders playing the leading man currently starring in my life. You know, me and Finn–"

"Oh, that's Kurt calling us from the drinks table," Santana interrupts, though Kurt has clearly just disappeared behind a curtain with some unknown blonde guy, "we'll be right back."

And then Santana drags Marley over to where the alcohol is, fully intending to empty it before ever speaking to Rachel again.

–

The best part of the night comes at the very end, when everybody has fucked off and it's just Santana and Marley left over along with Kurt, Rachel, Quinn and Brittany.

"So I said, 'There's alcohol on your breath,' and there's just this deafening silence in class, and then she like, out-dances me in front of everyone, like that will solve things."

"We've been hearing about this dance teacher for the past ten minutes, Berry," Santana interrupts. "Can we get to the end of this story now, please?"

"Oh," Rachel says, dejected that everyone isn't as intrigued as she clearly is. "Oh, we, uh, we became friends, and she helped me with my audition."

"Fascinating," Santana concludes, and Marley elbows her softly and so she keeps quiet after that. She kisses Marley's temple, instead, as a penance, and Marley smiles at her, mouthing, _don't be mean_. Santana just rolls her eyes good-naturedly and smiles tenderly at Marley, which means, _fine, yes, I'll do whatever you say, fuck it_.

When she looks back, everyone's looking at them weirdly, and Santana just says, "What?" in a harsh tone, and now it's Marley's turn to roll her eyes, because Santana didn't exactly keep that promise to be nice, did she?

"My dear Satan," Kurt says in answer, "it _is_ always good to see you on a leash."

"Fuck off," Santana replies easily, and everyone just laughs. Santana just huffs and tightens her grip around Marley's waist.

"So, Marley," Quinn asks, "what are you doing after senior year?"

And fuck Quinn forever, because that's what Santana's been wanting to ask since fucking Christmas, and God, this is not the time to bring up these things. Marley just smiles and shrugs, but Santana can see she looks about as uncomfortable as Santana feels right now, so she goes into protective mode.

"None of your fucking business, Fabray," Santana snaps. "Girl's got a whole year to think about that. None of us knew, remember, when we were getting our hair died pink and tatooing stupid entertainment channel celebs on our body."

Everyone is silent for about a minute, and the Rachel starts laughing, and everyone joins in. Santana and Quinn keep staring at each other though, knowing that that wasn't a joke at all.

The tension is broken when Brittany breaks open another bottle of wine and suggests they play a game of psychiatrist, and everything goes fine, after that.

At the end of the night, everyone's saying goodbye and Quinn just rolls her eyes at Santana before hugging her.

"You're such a stupid bitch," Quinn mutters in her ear. "Just talk to her about it, you fool."

Quinn walks away without another word, and then Brittany's hugging her, whispering softly in her ear, "What she said."

And then the both of them are heading down the stairs to catch a taxi together, because apparently Brittany wants to check out what Yale's all about for the next couple of days, and Santana's left with Marley listening to Rachel rant on about something.

"Goodnight, Rachel," Santana says pointedly, "thanks for the party."

Rachel beams at her kindness and Marley does too, and thank God, because she doesn't need another dent in her ribs from Marley's elbow.

She bids both Rachel and Kurt goodnight and takes Marley's hand, smiling at her while they ride in the taxi through the lingering awkwardness that Quinn's question brought up tonight.

–

She wakes up long before Marley the next morning, taking the Aspirin and water put on her bedside table and staring out of the window from where she's lying on Marley's chest.

In a perfect world, she thinks, Marley would graduate from high school and come to New York, magically turn into a famous singer songwriter and they'd live happily ever after, with Santana being an awesome trophy wife that relentlessly keeps pursuing her dream of performing, ending up wherever she might.

But she doesn't know if Marley wants any of that, if Marley even wants to be in New York next year, and the thought scares the shit out of her. She doesn't even know if Marley wants to go to university, even wants to leave Lima, and shit, fucking Quinn, because Santana wasn't ready to think about any of this just yet. There's about a month and a half of summer left, and Santana can't help this feeling of dread that creeps up on her, telling her to enjoy it while it lasts.

"You're doing that thinking thing again," comes a voice from above and Santana starts before realizing it's just Marley, and looks up to find Marley awake and smiling down at her.

She smiles back and gives Marley a quick kiss before settling her head up on the pillow next to Marley, staring into her eyes.

"Morning," is all Santana says. She scratches Marley's stomach lightly, and throws a leg over Marley's own, revelling in the feeling of their bare thighs rubbing together.

Marley just smiles and cuddles closer, watching Santana with this expression that Santana can't quite read. Finally, Marley sighs, and shit, it's coming, and Santana doesn't know if she wants to do this, like, now, or ever.

"You're thinking about what Quinn said last night, aren't you?" Marley asks softly, and Santana just nods, hoping that Marley doesn't see the fear in her eyes. But, alas, she should have known. "Why are you so scared?" Marley asks then.

Santana lets out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding. She doesn't quite know how to answer that question. "I don't know," she says honestly.

"In the words of Olivia Newton John," Marley says, then takes a breath, and Santana frowns. "I'm hopelessly devoted to you."

Santana laughs, and just like that, it's easier, and shit, she always wants Marley around to make things easier, just like this, she realizes. "I'm scared of losing you," Santana says.

Marley brings up a hand and strokes Santana's hair. "Baby, I'm not going anywhere," she says. "Just ask me."

"Do you know?" Santana asks, deciding to bite the bullet. "What you want to do after school?"

"Not really. I just, I know I want to go to college," Marley says. "This might seem stupid, but I've always dreamed of going to college and getting a great job so I could make things easier for my mom, you know?"

"It's not stupid," Santana answers quickly.

"And I always thought that I'd be something like a doctor or a lawyer or what not," Marley says. "But then I grew to love music, and found out I could sing, and that dream changed, but the college thing has always been there, you know? Like, giving it a direction to it all."

Santana bites her lip. She can't possibly pretend she's not thought of this before.

And well, there are these moments, with her and Marley, that she feels safe to put things on the line. Moments like when she showed up at Marley's house more than a year ago, determined to make Marley hers, or when she shared her plans with Marley, in the hopes that she'll be confirmed to not be crazy for having them, and well, Marley's always made her take those leaps, and so she tries to do it again now.

"Well, there's NYADA, which I would boycott due to the current attendees and the fact that it's more theatre and performance, but both Juliard and NYU obviously have amazing music production programmes," she starts, having done this homework months ago, dreaming about it, most nights. "Then there's SAE, Columbia, Brooklyn College, Cornell, Monmouth, CUNY, and even the Institute of Audio Research, though you might find those last too a bit too technical, I think, for a true artist such as yourself – all depends on what you're looking for, really. And well, then there's always the New School and the Manhattan School of Music, which are both a bit of a toss up, but it's never good to rule out an option, so."

There's a big smile growing on Marley's face, and Santana tries not to die inside.

"Would it scare you if I said that I don't care which one I end up in?" Marley asks tentatively. "And if I said that I only want to be here, close to you?"

There's tears in Santana's eyes, she just knows it. "It would scare me more if you didn't," Santana says, and then Marley's lips are colliding with hers and fuck, if this is it, if all these dreams come true, it's just–

Holy shit, what has she done to deserve such wonderful things in her life?

–

For the last month while Marley is with her, she returns the previous summer's favour and helps Marley with applications and takes her to all the campuses of the schools she's interested in.

Marley walks around the university grounds with this complete look of awe on her face, and like, Santana is just like, well.

She always thinks she can't love Marley any more than she already does, and then shit like this happens.

–

When there's only another week of Marley's visit left, they build a fort again, and spend most of their time holed up in the apartment.

They make love constantly, and to Santana there's this element of melancholy to all their actions now, like they're taking their time, cherishing their moments together more. It's always the most difficult time together, these last few days, knowing they'll be separated again soon, but this time it's different, somehow.

Because now, Santana's got a glimpse of the future, what it's like to live within close proximity with Marley, and knowing that soon, Marley will be moving out here and they'll be close again... Well. It just makes a year seem like it's not as daunting as before.

Santana stretches out above Marley, pushing her tongue as deep into Marley's mouth as it can go, and when they're sharing one breath like this, Santana almost swears they become one person. She turns Marley over onto her stomach, pushing a thigh between her legs and sliding into Marley from behind, and Marley's left hand reaches behind her to tangle into Santana's hair.

"Fuck," Marley breathes, and Santana smiles, because this is really the only time she hears Marley swear, and she'll never tire of seeing Marley lose herself like this.

She cradles her right arm under Marley's body as she moves with her, thrusting steadily as she places kisses on the back of Marley's neck. She can see Marley's right hand holding onto the sheets, knuckles turning white as Santana ups the pace, going deeper when Marley starts pushing her lower body back into her.

"I love you," Santana whispers against Marley's back, and Marley just answers with a strangled moan.

Santana smiles as she pushes in deeper, harder, faster, and Marley turns her head forward into the pillow, muffling her sounds when she thinks she's becoming too loud. It doesn't take long then – even if Santana wants it to go on forever – and then Marley's muffled shouts are accompanied by her contracting around Santana's fingers, and then Santana just closes her eyes, feels everything, stores it into memory.

When Marley gets her strength back again, long after her body has gone slack, she turns over and connects her lips to Santana's, rolling her body to cover Santana's like a blanket. She pulls back after a while, looking down at Santana with her lips between her teeth.

"Okay?" Santana asks, twirling a strand of Marley's hair between her fingers.

Marley nods. "I... I want to..."

"What do you want, Marls?" Santana asks softly, because of course she'll make it happen in about a second.

Marley just shakes her head and kisses down Santana's neck, down between her breasts, down her stomach, and _oh_. Marley's never gone down on her before, and well, okay. So this is about to happen, Santana thinks, trying not to explode.

Marley looks up at Santana, perched between Santana's legs, kissing the inside of Santana's thigh, never breaking eye contact.

"I want to make you feel good," Marley says, and right, Santana thinks, she's nervous, too.

Santana just nods, because her voice left her as soon as she realized what Marley was up to.

"Help me," Marley says softly, taking Santana's hand to put it on her head, and Santana just tangles her fingers in Marley's hair, focusing on _breathing_.

As soon as Marley's mouth finds her, placing a tender kiss right _there_, Santana loses control. She groans, fucking loudly, pressing down with her hand and arching into Marley's mouth. And then Marley becomes confident, bringing her tongue into the mix, and Santana almost passes out. The build is quick, so fucking quick, and Marley's hardly gotten time to really taste Santana, she thinks, when Santana's coming against Marley's mouth, vision going dark.

It seems Marley doesn't want to miss out, though, when she keeps on going at it, bringing her tongue down and licking inside of Santana, and then up, and then Santana spasms again, crying out her second release with something that sounds like Marley's name, she isn't quite sure.

She almost thinks Marley's going for it a third time, but then realizes that, thankfully, Marley's only cleaning her up and Santana relaxes, because a third might kill her right now. Marley kisses back up her body and then Santana's tasting herself on Marley's tongue, and shit, shit shit.

Her eyes close and Marley kisses her forehead, but she only closes her eyes for about five minutes, bent on moving down Marley's body and mixing the taste in her mouth with Marley's like, immediately.

–

She knows it was coming, but taking a taxi back form JFK, after seeing Marley off, is the fucking worst.

Only a year, she tells herself.

Just a simple old year.

–

The next few months before winter break is busy.

Santana is still going at her two jobs, somehow loving the simplicity of it alongside her true performing career, which is _blooming_.

She rakes in six more commercials and two more music videos, and the money she makes is insane.

Like, she feels like she's truly building a life for herself now, financially and physically, and there are no words for her to describe how that feels.

Independence and New York? It's the fucking bomb.

–

By the time she's landing in Lima for winter break, nothing ban break her spirits.

Halfway there, she thinks when she's back in Marley's arms.

Halfway there.

–

Marley waited to see Santana in person to tell her the best news yet. This year, nationals will be held, again, in New York.

Which obviously means that, as soon as Santana hears, Santana plans another fantastic little trip for them for the time Marley will be in New York.

This is the plan: Santana will go to Lima to go with Marley to prom. Then she'll hop on the bus with the glee club off to nationals – she's tight with Finn like that, and with tight she means she'll have his balls if he denies her this – and Marley will stay with her in New York for about a month. Then they'll come back to Lima, Santana will help her pack for New York, organize her a smashing surprise going away party, and then they'll fly away for their happily ever together forever.

Even though it's just back and forth between Lima and New York, she feels a bit like a globetrotter, and either way, it just sounds like this massive adventure for them, whilst preparing for their future, and Santana could not be happier.

They have a three day long sex marathon to celebrate Santana's homecoming – Santana's parents are out of town, thank God – and by the time Christmas hits, Santana has this permanent smile on her face and for the life of her can't get rid of it.

(Doesn't want to, either.)

So, Santana has this gift for Marley. She doesn't want to give it in front of both their parents – since the Lopez/Rose holiday worked so well last time, they had to repeat it this year – because well, it's a bit. Well. Yeah.

Instead, she gives Marley an envelope with a card in that simply reads, _I love you. I have something else I'll give to you later_. Marley looks at her with her eyebrow raised and Santana knows what she thinks – that it's some kind of sexy gift. And well, it is, but whatever, Santana just kisses her and hands her another present, because obviously she's not about to just give Marley something that Santana can benefit from, too.

Marley scowls, because two presents were not in the contract, and Santana just whispers in her ear that the other one is for _both_ of them, and then Marley smiles slyly, knowing her previous guess of a sexy gift was right.

Opening her gift, Marley frowns at the box a bit and Santana knows it's not a cheap present, but just felt that yeah, Marley was worth the money, and anything to let Marley know Santana believes her, so.

Marley just looks down at it – a ridiculously advanced studio sound system for recording and mixing tracks for Marley's laptop – saying nothing, and shit, maybe it really was a bad idea, because now she's made Marley sad. And shit, there's a tear running down Marley's cheek and now both their parents are looking at them and silence dawns and Santana feels like a fucking idiot, all because she couldn't keep to their deal and buy something that doesn't cost a shitload of money.

A sniff comes from Marley again, and Santana's throat falls to her stomach, and she lurches forward and places a hand on Marley's back, trying to ignore their parents looking on in concern.

She whispers, so only Marley can hear, "Marley, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it's too much, just please, I'm sorry, please stop crying, please."

Marley shakes her head and finally, finally looks up at Santana, and Santana is more than relieved to see a hint of a smile through the tears.

"Thank you," Marley says, in such a small voice that Santana barely hears her.

Santana immediately scoops Marley up in her arms and smiles at their parents to let them know it's okay, and then the old folks return their attention on themselves, leaving Santana and Marley to their own devices.

Marley lets go of the box and places it gently on the couch, shifting her hands so she's holding on to Santana just as tightly in return.

"God, Santana, you shouldn't have, you silly girl," Marley says into her neck.

"I love you," Santana just says. "I want you to know that your dreams are important to me, too."

And then Marley just squeezes her tighter before wiping her eyes and reaching to get Santana's present, a beautiful pendant to match Marley's own, only this one has a little camera on it instead of a music note.

Santana just smiles as she immediately hangs it on her neck, thinking how it's impossible that she ever hated Christmas when now it just gives her so much joy.

–

They spend the night at Marley's house this time, which Santana is thankful for, since they're on a different level of the house than Marley's mom, and Santana's never been more thankful for that than right at this moment.

She thinks of the _other_ present she has in her bag, gently putting it by the bedside table while getting changed, waiting for Marley to finish showering.

When Marley comes out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, Santana already feels herself getting wet, and fuck, it's going to be one of those nights, she thinks. Marley smirks at the expression on Santana's face and just walks over to her dresser, picking out some pajamas. But Santana is too quick for her, intercepting her before she can cover her body with any more clothes.

"Don't think we're gonna need that, do we?" Santana says about the clothes, wrapping her arms around Marley's middle.

"We won't?" Marley asks, and it's clear that smirk still hasn't left her face.

Santana just laughs and pulls Marley backwards, falling onto the bed and watching as Marley turns on top of her, sitting up with her thighs on either side of Santana's hips. She slowly undoes the button of Santana's jeans while biting her lip, and God, this girl is so sexy, Santana can't function.

She watches as Marley shifts to pull Santana's jeans and underwear down her legs, and then moves back up again, pushing her hands over Santana's stomach, taking her top along with it. Marley's hands just kind of rest on Santana's breasts, getting distracted, and Santana rolls her eyes, realizing she's going to need to discard the rest of her top herself.

Once she does, she sits up so she can kiss Marley, feeling Marley's soft lips and the hands on her nipples pressing down harder in reply, and shit, her hips are bucking into Marley already. She pulls away and loosens the towel wrapped around Marley, and then Marley's completely naked with her, sitting on her and all Santana can do is lean forward and wrap her lips around Marley's nipple.

Marley only allows it for a few moments before pressing Santana to lie on her back, hard, and then Marley's on her, sucking at her breast and Santana arches, almost forgetting about her present completely.

But she does, and so she struggles against Marley to gain control, managing to roll Marley over on her back and pin her to the mattress. She rolls her hips down into Marley, once, and Marley's eyes flicker shut for a moment, and she stops trying to fight Santana.

Santana smirks down at the her victory, and then backs away a bit to reach for the gift.

She can't lie and say she hasn't been thinking about it a lot, thinking about all the firsts she's shared with Marley and how there's still one thing left that she wants to be _hers_, one more thing she wants to share with Marley before anyone else.

When she takes out the box and shows Marley what's inside, she bites her lip, waiting for a reaction.

Santana can't help but laugh when Marley just frowns, and looks up at her, simply saying, "It's big."

Marley holds her pose for about a second before chuckling along with Santana, and Santana just thinks that if that's Marley's reaction now, she doesn't really ever see a future for Marley with any other guy.

(Good, Santana thinks. Now she just has to rule any other girl out of the picture, and she'll be set.)

"We don't have to if you don't want to," Santana says, but then admits, "it's just that there's this really selfish part of me that wants all of your firsts to be with me, just me."

Marley just smiles up at her, bashful, and then takes out the straps, starting to undo the buckles. "I want all my firsts to be with you, too," is all she says before kissing Santana again, somewhat filthily, and Santana almost forgets about the box in her hand.

Marley breaks away, though, throwing the empty box off the bed and helping Santana pull the straps up her legs, and then Santana is back in the zone, focusing on her mission. She tightens it around her hips, then attaches the dildo, and then Marley's looking at her, and fuck, Santana wants to take a picture of that look for when Marley's not around.

She kisses Marley, hard, feeling Marley's hips buck into her already, and fuck, Marley might be ready but it's not enough yet, not when she's never been stretched like she's about to be, and so Santana just moves her kisses down, down down. She runs her tongue up and down Marley's slit, every now and then pressing down on Marley's clit but not nearly enough to give her any sort of satisfaction, and she can hear Marley whining from above her. Santana smiles as hands press down on her head, but she doesn't give in, just making sure Marley gets exceptionally wet before placing one last kiss to Marley's clit and moving back up.

Marley kisses her instantly and Santana gets lost in it for a few seconds until she feels Marley's legs wrap around her waist, hips looking for friction. She pulls back and lowers her hand to rub through Marley, keeping her ready.

"It's..." Santana breathes out, now only realizing how hoarse she is from being so turned on. She clears her throat. "It's going to hurt a bit."

Nodding, Marley just kisses Santana again, and well, that's consent if she's ever seen it. She brings her hips forward and places the head in place, pressing in slightly before letting go and using both hands to wrap around Marley's shoulder. This has always been the best part of using a strap-on, Santana thinks, that she gets to hold the girl through the whole thing, that both her hands are free to move all over.

Reminded of their very first time, Santana strokes Marley's hair and softly tells her, "Look at me," as she pushes in a bit more.

It's only about a quarter way in, and Marley's already breathing more difficultly. Santana can see her eyes struggling to stay open, a deep frown etched in her forehead, and maybe she should have bought a smaller size. Shit.

But Marley just opens her legs wider, pulling Santana in a bit more, and then they're halfway, and Marley's mouth falls open, face showing traces of agony.

Santana keeps dead still. She kisses Marley, instead, trying to get her to stop focusing on it so hard, and it works a bit, feeling Marley relax against her. Then she's three-quarters in, and Marley chokes out a moan against her mouth.

Santana breaks away and kisses Marley's jaw, then her cheeks. "I've got you," she says, spreading the hand under Marley's body over Marley's shoulder blade. "It's okay, I've got you."

Feeling Marley open her legs even wider, which is like, shit, okay, wow, Santana presses in all the way, and Marley groans, throwing her head back against the pillow. Santana takes the opportunity to kiss Marley's exposed throat, feeling her hips pressing against Marley's inner thighs, knowing she's so fucking deep in Marley right now, and shit, she just smiles against Marley's neck.

When Marley lowers her head again, Santana lifts up and kisses her slowly for a few moments, just relishing in the feel of being so close to Marley. Marley runs her hands from Santana's hips, to her back, to her breasts and her neck, all fucking over, really, and it's always nice to know that Marley likes to dote on her just as much as she likes doing it in turn.

"Okay," Marley says finally, "you can move, if you want."

And fuck, does she ever. Santana pulls back slowly, presses in at the same pace, and the noise Marley makes is incredible.

"Shhh," Santana whispers tenderly, because Marley's mom may be all the way downstairs, but she's not fucking deaf.

She kisses Marley as she continues at the same pace, swallowing Marley's moans, thrusting gently, in and out, in and out, making sure to tilt her hips upward in smooth circled motions and not just push aimlessly forward like some untrained teenaged hoodlum.

When she picks up speed, Marley struggles to breathe and so Santana moves down to her neck, trying to get Marley to be a bit quieter but it's to no avail. It's late, anyway, and hopefully Marley's mom won't wake up, but either way, Santana is a bit too lost in sensation to care, feeling the pressure on her clit every time she connects with the space between Marley's legs.

"Santana," Marley says, and Santana just grabs her hand, presses it against the mattress and tangles their fingers together.

She uses it as leverage to push herself upward, holding herself up on straight arms now, looking down at Marley as she thrusts in faster. Marley looks at her through half-closed eyes, mouth open and moaning every time Santana pushes, pushes, pushes in.

Santana leans down and to reconnect her lips to Marley's, hearing Marley get louder, feels the sweat form on her forehead, sticking to Marley's own sweaty one, their whole bodies sweating, really, sliding together easily. Santana just ups her pace, because it is _delicious_, fucking Marley like this, and then there are nails digging into her back, and shit, there are _those_ moans, and Santana knows Marley is close.

She pushes, harder, harder, harder, angling herself up more so she can hit inside where Marley needs her the most. She knows she found it when a pained whimper escapes Marley's throat, and then she repeats the noise every time Santana hits, hits, hits that spot.

"Santana– San, San..." Marley says, throwing her head to the side, and Santana just buries her head in Marley's neck, giving her all she's got. "Santana! Oh, oh, _oh_, God."

Marley screams out when she comes, honestly, full out shouts Santana's name, and Santana is so close she doesn't even care about the noise anymore. She feels Marley arch up into her, feels Marley clamp down and make it difficult to move, but she powers through it, hips jerking erratically, so close to her own release that she can't think straight.

"Marley," she hisses, and then she can feel Marley's hold on her tighten, Marley pushing up into her to help her along, even when she knows Marley is spent, and shit, not long after that thought she lets go, biting on Marley's neck and groaning, loudly.

She just lies there for a long time, hearing Marley breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath herself, feeling the aftershocks run through Marley as well as her own still affecting her, and this is another of those moments when Santana feels like they're one person. After a while she notices small kisses being placed to her temple, and she responds in kind by kissing Marley's neck, and then she's pushing off Marley and pulling out slowly.

"Did you like that?" Santana asks later, when they've discarded the harness and cuddled under the covers.

"Uh-huh," Marley says, still somewhat breathless.

For a second, Santana worries that maybe, this wasn't such a good idea, actually giving Marley a taste of the _d_, and all her old insecurities hit her out of nowhere. But then she sees Marley roll her eyes and bring Santana's left hand up to her mouth, kissing her fingers.

"Not any more than I love them, though," Marley amends, sucking on the two Santana always uses to make her come undone.

And God, it turns Santana on so much, but she doesn't have enough energy right now to do anything about it.

Marley just chuckles. "Go to sleep, baby."

"Merry Christmas," Santana says, pulling Marley close.

Marley kisses her neck. "Merry Christmas, Santana."

–

New Year's is – like some tradition now – spent with them alone, secluded, bringing 2015 in together.

Though this year is a bit different, hidden up in their treehouse, Marley straddling Santana's lap due to the restriction in space and steadily riding her fingers, losing track of whether midnight is close or not.

Marley is very close, though, Santana knows that much, with her arms strewn around Santana's shoulders and her mouth placed next to Santana's ear, so Santana can hear Marley's breath catch with each curl of her fingers.

Santana loves it when Marley rides her. _Loves it._ The pace is slow and deep, and it always is when Marley takes she lead like this, and she takes ages, just moving slowly, feeling Santana in her, and Santana will let her, she'll let her do it all fucking year long if she wants.

When she senses, much, much later, that Marley's breathing is slowly becoming more laboured – it's not like it's their first round, either, obviously – Santana brings up her thumb to help Marley get there, and then Marley's gasping and pressing into her, harder, and then harder, and then even fucking harder and Santana fears for the old boards that makes up the floor of this ancient fucking treehouse.

Marley shakes for long minutes after she comes, so fucking hard that Santana thinks her fingers might be bruised tomorrow. Santana puts her arms around Marley as Marley falls into her, body having gone limp and all power leaving her body after the incredibly strong orgasm.

"Hap... N'yur," Marley exhales, totally spent.

"To you too, Marley," Santana says, holding her closer, holding on for dear life.

–

All too soon, they're separated again, but just after Santana touches down in New York, something springs up that will occupy her time just fine.

So, Harvey booked her for a one-episode stint on some cable television show. She has three lines, and she shows up in most of the episode, and Santana almost dies when he tells her.

It's just some kind of average cop show and she plays a family member that ends up being a bit cray, and she's only on set for two days but it's all just too amazing and by the end she's just kind of looking back at the experience and being like, yeah, that happened.

And then it starts happening more. There are some more commercials and then three more television appearances before she's set to go back to Lima, and like, Santana sometimes struggles to believe that this is her life now.

It's pretty fucking ridiculously amazing, really.

–

Marley refuses to tell Santana what colour her dress is.

Santana insists on it, since she needs to buy the perfect fucking corsage, but Marley won't let up. Not even when, not long after returning to Lima, Santana teases Marley into madness while going down on her, and if that isn't going to get Marley to fess up, let's be honest, Santana thinks, nothing will.

Her mother advises her to buy a white one, insisting that it would compliment any dress, and so now Santana's standing in her room, donning her own black dress and holding the white thing in her hand, wondering if it will really work.

Because her mother is a freaking telepath, Santana hears, "It'll work, mija," and turns to find her mother standing in the doorway, looking at her all sage-like. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks, mom." Santana sighs, she turns and grabs her purse from the bed. "I just... Everything needs to be perfect. She only gets prom once."

Santana's mom rolls her eyes, and like every time it happens, Santana can't help wonder if that's where she gets it from.

"You worry too much. The car's waiting. Go pick up your girlfriend."

She gives her mom a kiss on the cheek and walks outside to find the limo parked in the driveway. Marley doesn't like flashy, but Santana convinced her to at least let Santana spoil her with some things, like the traditional – or contrived, however anyone wants to see it – limo beforehand and hotel booked after. Marley reluctantly agreed, but on the condition that they also pick up Unique and her date to go with them, and Santana was more than fine with that.

When she gets to the Rose house, Marley's mom lets her in and gushes on about how beautiful Santana looks. Santana chose a black dress to be sure that she matches to anything Marley wears, and so that she could blend into the background for the most part, because tonight is all about Marley.

Mrs Rose tells her that Marley is almost ready, but she hasn't been invited to help because Marley's been hiding that dress like a ninja.

"I haven't seen this top-secret project either," Mrs Rose admits, and then they spend the rest of the time waiting in silence, twiddling their thumbs and checking for any sign of Marley.

Then she hears the creak of that damned top stair and hears Mrs Rose say, "Oh, _Marley_," and turns to see her girlfriend come into the room.

It's the moment movies are made of.

Marley strolls down the stairs in a pretty pink dress, hair tied loosely with curls falling down and framing her face and Santana's pendant hanging around her neck.

Santana's sure her mouth's hanging open by the time Marley reaches the bottom, accepting a hug from her mom before walking over to where Santana's standing.

"Hi, Santana," Marley says coyly, and if Santana didn't want to kiss her so bad, she'd probably slap Marley for doing things like this to her heart.

"Beautiful isn't even the word, Marley," Santana says, eyes flickering all over Marley's body, not knowing if she'll ever be able to take in all the perfection.

Marley mouths _I love you_ and Santana just smiles weakly, shaky hands reaching up and tying the fucking white flower to Marley's wrist. And thank God for her mom, because it does actually go quite well with the pink.

Mrs Rose takes about a thousand pictures before they're allowed to leave, and well, it's not like Santana even has to fake a smile for the camera, so she might as well let it be photographed while it's naturally etched on her face.

Climbing into the limo, Santana gives the driver instructions to Unique's place before leaning over and giving Marley a soft, long kiss, careful not to ruin any lipstick.

"You're perfect," Marley whispers, and Santana can only return the sentiment.

At McKinley, Santana is lucky enough to bump into Sue Sylvester, who surprises Santana with a hug and a pleasant conversation to play catch up – though, of course, not lacking in some quips at most aspects of Santana's life, but Santana knows it's done with love, so. And then she's less fortunate when she is spotted by Mr Schue, but at least that's better than running into his little apprentice, so.

She and Marley socialize with a few of Marley's friends and then they get a bite to eat, enjoying their drinks until the DJ starts the night off for them when he plays a nice, romantic song.

Standing up and reaching a hand out for Marley to take, Santana leads Marley over to the dance floor and puts her arms around Marley's neck, pulling her close and slowly twirling around the spot they've occupied.

Santana's surprised at how different the atmosphere is around her and Marley, compared to some of the stares she'd get just a few years ago with Brittany, not to mention how bad it was sometimes for Blaine and Kurt. She mentions as much to Marley.

"You know I almost got slushied once this year," Marley says, and Santana tenses up in her arms. Marley just tightens her grip around Santana's waist, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Santana's lower back. "Relax, San. Nothing happened."

"Who was it?" Santana asks, already looking round for the culprit because they're about to do a smackdown.

"Santana," Marley warns, and then Santana sighs and returns her head to Marley's shoulder. "A bunch of hockey guys were throwing some slurs at me, ready to attack, and then Kitty showed up with some football back-up, saying something about how my girlfriend, Santana Lopez, wouldn't be too pleased to hear about this." Marley pulls back and Santana looks at her to find her biting her lip. "And then they literally went pale and just left me alone. I mean, what did you even _do_ at this school?"

Santana laughs. "You don't want to know," she jokes, and then kisses Marley softly, before dancing the rest of the night away.

–

When they get back from the hotel the next day, Marley drags Santana into her room, where she finds a few envelopes strewn on Marley's bed.

"What's this?" Santana asks, though she can tell by the SAE crest printed on the back of the closest one.

"I want you to be with me when I opened them," Marley says, patting the space next to her, and Santana sits down.

She gets in to all the schools bar CUNY, and then there's just the NYU one left, and Marley takes a deep breath, because Santana knows that's the one she was most invested in, the one with the best programme, the one with the best future. Santana rubs her back and presses a kiss to her shoulder, a gentle reminder that she's there for Marley no matter what.

Marley tears open the top and unfolds the letter, and Santana watches her eyes as they skim over the first line, and Santana doesn't even have to guess, because she can read Marley like a fucking book by now. Marley jumps into her arms and Santana hugs her tight, then kisses her soundly, because shit, she's been pretty excited about their future for about forever, but now it's reached a boiling point.

–

It's pretty fucking symbolic, Santana thinks, when days later they get on a bus to New York, and Marley spends almost the whole ride telling Santana about Juliard's course outline and what she's most excited for and Santana just revels in it, seeing Marley so excited about her dreams.

Of course, they're in the back of the bus after Santana glared at any occupants who dared sit their asses down instead of them, and so Santana also gets in some very sneaky touching to pass the time, and that's pretty fucking awesome, too.

Finally in New York, Santana returns to her apartment and Marley heads of with the New Directions for a final few days of rehearsing. They kiss for long moments before they part, and then Santana's in the taxi, smiling at Marley waving until they round a corner and she's gone from sight.

But it's not as bittersweet as always, knowing that they'll only see each other again on competition day, when they also know that after that, they're not ever going back to the Lima/New York dynamic they've been surviving on for the past two years.

Santana can't help but think it's worth it, being separated like that for so long, only to finally, finally have their happy ending, being in the same town, starting something completely new together.

–

This time, two of Marley's original songs are used in the performance, and not only do they rock the fucking house, but they also take first place.

To think that it was Marley's songs, Marley's fucking genius beautifully written music, that helped them top the board. Santana just jumps up when they announce the winners, sure that her screaming is so loud that they can hear her back in Ohio.

When she gets backstage, she looks around for Marley for ages until spotting her talking to creeper guy a little bit away from the rest of the glee club. Not wanting to intrude, Santana congratulates the rest of the club while she waits for them to finish. She keeps her eyes on Marley though, watching as she smiles at the man, then frowns, and then a whole range of emotions flicker on her face and Santana can't quite keep up. Santana also watches as he writes something down on a notepad and then shakes Marley's hand, and she slowly walks up to Marley, waiting for the guy to walk away.

Marley turns and sees her then, and Santana smiles widely, immediately hugging her and whispering all sorts of congratulations in her ear. When they part, Santana gives her a long-ass kiss and takes her hand, leading them over to the rest of the club.

"Everything okay?" Santana asks, nodding her head in the direction Mr Creeper just walked away to.

Marley just nods, squeezing Santana's fingers and giving her a smile.

(Santana tries not to notice the sadness in it, but fails.)

–

Their little vacation in New York goes by splendidly. Santana does another two music videos, they have picnics in the park, go to the cinema, have lots and lots and lots of sex, and even take a trip to visit Quinn in New Haven.

At times, no matter how much Santana wants to pretend that they're having yet another perfect summer together, Marley seems kind of distant. She's been a bit weird ever since nationals, and Santana doesn't want to bring it up, just waits patiently because she knows Marley will tell her when she's ready.

And with only two weeks left on the clock, Santana knows that there's something else she wants to ask Marley instead. Really, it's been on her mind for the last year, but with recent developments, it just feels like the right time, now.

So, one morning, Santana watches as Marley wakes up, eyes adjusting to the light and she just brings a hand up, strokes it through Marley's hair as Marley slowly comes into consciousness, moving closer to Santana like it's programmed into her body by default.

The smile Marley gives her then is so tender and Santana feels her heart swell. And those moments she always recognizes as Marley giving her the courage to take certain leaps? This is one of them, she knows it already, this is when she'll take another plunge.

"Morning," Marley husks, and leans forward to give Santana a sweet kiss in greeting. Santana lingers for a few moments before pulling back and smiling against Marley's mouth.

She turns on her side and watches as the sunlight illuminates Marley in a way that's just, _oh_. Sometimes Marley just has this ability to make Santana go, _oh_.

"I want to ask you something," Santana says, and Marley just watches her, waits. "It's about, well, us. And it's– It's big, maybe, and you have full right to not want to, but I wanted to ask you anyway, because I think it will show you where my head is at, in terms of, well, you and me. If you get what I–"

"Santana," Marley smiles, "tell me."

"I know you've always wanted to go to college," Santana starts. "I don't know if you've always dreamed of the whole college experience and all that, and I also don't quite know what factors as the full experience for you. And I never want to take away from the experiences I know you should have while you're there, but I do have another deal for you, even if it might intrude on that a little."

Marley smiles. "I do love your deals."

Santana smirks back. "You will have parties and make new friends and do awesome work, and perhaps, it is your wish to do that while living in the dorms and have that kind of college life. But we both know the alternative to that last one, so I'm just going to throw that option out there, but like I said, it's your life and your experience, and I don't want to pressure you in any way."

Marley frowns a bit, and Santana is sure she can gauge where Santana's heading by now.

"I guess, what I'm asking is," Santana takes a deep breath, "that if you wanted to, I would like you to move in with me."

Santana has learned, in the process of dating Marley, not to panic in times like these, when she puts herself out there, and so she just waits patiently as Marley watches her blankly, trying to think of a reply. She doesn't stop stroking Marley's hair, and just stares at Marley's eyes as a myriad of emotions flash through them.

It's only when Marley takes Santana's hand away from her head and sits up, facing away from Santana, that Santana feels like she may have been silly to let down those defences. The panic creeps up as she follows, sitting up too and putting a hand on Marley's own.

"Marley?" Santana asks softly.

"You're taking this huge step," Marley says. "You're putting it all on the line for me, Santana, and it's just–"

"If it's too much, if it's too early for you, I'm sorry," Santana says. "I wasn't trying to force you into anything, honestly, I'll understand if you say no. I just wanted to let you know what I'm thinking of, you know?"

"It's not that," Marley says, "it's not. I'm always ready for these things way before you are, Santana."

She gives Santana a sad smile then, and Santana returns it, because she's well aware of how thick she can be sometimes, yes. And then Marley sighs and falls back onto the bed, pulling Santana down to lie next to her.

"Something happened," Marley says seriously, and Santana does not like the sound of that at all.

"Is this about the man at regionals?" Santana asks slowly, and Marley looks at her in surprise, but then just nods.

"He watched the performance and he heard my songs," Marley says. "He's works at a record company and he's a professor at his university, and he was very impressed."

"Marley, that's fantastic."

Marley nods, but doesn't look that happy about it. "He offered me an internship, and wanted me to apply to his school, telling me that he'll personally vouch for me and wants me in his class. After getting my transcripts, I got accepted, along with a full scholarship thanks to my grades and the glee club."

Santana's sure her smile is so wide that it won't fit on the bed. "Marley!" Santana reaches over and gives her a deep, long, kiss. "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. This is incredible!"

Marley smiles weakly, and Santana frowns. She reaches up and cups Marley's cheek.

"Baby, this is amazing. Why aren't you happy?"

"It's UCLA, Santana."

Looking back on this moment later, Santana would describe it as being one where time felt like it stopped.

"UCLA," Santana repeats.

Marley nods. "Los Angeles. Four year degree."

Everything in Santana's body sinks. The room is completely still for long minutes, and Santana and Marley just stare at each other, wondering what happens next.

Finally, Santana works up the courage to speak.

"You won't have any loans," she says, body going into robot logic mode. "You'd have a job straight out of school. And you'd be _in_, you'd have what most people work years to get."

She sees the look on Marley's face then, and she knows.

"You want this, Marley, right?"

Marley nods weakly, and Santana feels her eyes start to water.

"Santana, I'm so sorry," Marley says, voice breaking, and Santana sees a tear roll down Marley's cheek, too, and God.

So close, Santana thinks. They were _this_ close to having it all, and now. Well.

Santana knows she can't. She _can't_ have a do-over of these last two years, they were fucking horrifically long, but worth it, because somehow she just felt that there would be a prize waiting at the end of it, but now. Another four years is just...

"I can't, Marley," Santana says, feeling the tears go free, then. "I can't do all of this again."

"I know," Marley says, bringing her body closer to Santana's, cupping her face with both hands and placing a kiss to Santana's forehead. "I know, Santana, I don't think I can either."

"I just wanted–" Santana starts, going to end with _us to have our happy ending_, but then she just breaks into sobs instead, choking out, "Oh my God, this is actually happening."

"I'm sorry," Marley says again. "Oh God, Santana, I'm so fucking sorry, I don't– I'll leave it, I'll tell them no, okay? I'll stay here, we can have it, we can have what we've always wanted."

Santana shakes her head, because she knows they can't, not when Marley has this great life waiting for her at the other end of the world.

She can't be the reason Marley's dreams don't come true.

"No," Santana says, "you know you can't, sweetheart, you have to go."

She feels Marley nod against her forehead, and Santana doesn't want to open her eyes, doesn't want to see Marley cry since it's awful hearing it in the first place, and so she just buries her face in Marley's neck, hugging her tighter.

"I love you so much," Marley says then, and that's moment it starts happening, Santana can feel it.

Her heart is _breaking_.

–

The spend the whole weekend furiously making love, crying one minute and moaning in elation the next, and it's all so surreal to Santana, it just feels like a dream.

Marley packs her clothes silently, and Santana rolls away and looks out of the window instead, not wanting to see that visual when she knows it will be etched into her brain for the rest of her life.

The cab ride is silent, too, Marley just holding her hand while Santana stares out of the window, until Marley scoots over and rests her head on Santana's shoulder, and Santana turns to wrap her arms around Marley, choosing instead to watch her own palm as Marley's fingers glide over it, softly and slowly.

At the airport, Santana almost chuckles when she thinks about how she was supposed to be on this airplane too, going home and helping Marley pack for their life, together in New York, but then the sound just dies in her throat, coming out as a strangled whimper.

They're standing at the gate that will separate them and Santana hears the announcement saying Marley has three minutes left before she needs to go through it.

And that's what it comes down to, after more than two years of being together, three minutes wherein she's supposed to say goodbye to the girl that she loves with everything she is, the girl she thought she'd be with forever. The universe is just a pack of hairy fucking balls, Santana thinks, because none of this is fair in any way.

Marley tries to smile but doesn't manage to get halfway there, and Santana can't find it in her to even try. Instead, she just leans forward and kisses Marley, closing her eyes and remembering what Marley feels like against her lips.

Remembers what she smells like, what she tastes like, tries to take in everything about this moment, trying to engrave it in her memory.

"I love you," Marley says when they pull away, resting their foreheads together.

"I love you too," Santana answers. She sighs. "I just wish it was enough."

"Oh, Santana," Marley says, running her thumb over Santana's jaw. "Of course it is."

Marley steps back from her, keeping her hand connected to Santana's cheek for as long as possible, then takes a deep breath, turns away and walks through the gate. And Santana watches, powerless, as Marley stops before she needs to round a corner, smiles sadly and gives one last wave before disappearing behind it, and, well.

Then Marley's gone.

And that's it, Santana thinks.

That's really it.

–

**End of part two.**


	7. Part 3: Home at last

**Dear readers,**

**Thank you so much for your support for this story. I had an awesome time writing it, and it was really just so wonderful to read your comments throughout and know you were invested enough to follow and favourite it to find out what happens next.**

**While this is the end of this particular Martana saga, I have one last future AU story that I will be posting next week, and after that I hope other writers get to writing some more stories of this pairing on here!**

**Once again, thank you all for reading.**

**Love,**

**Me**

**(PS. If there are any more hardcore Martana shippers, I'd love to see you all crawl out of your holes and make the Martana tag on Tumblr a bit more flourishing with things that are not RP posts – especially those folk with some mad photoshop skills! Peace.)**

* * *

Santana doesn't know why she came here tonight.

Possibly, torturing herself like this just feels like that natural option, for some reason, so, whatever, she decides to just roll with it. Too late to turn back now, anyway. She just settles in, pulling her blanket higher up and trying to get comfortable on this damned hood.

It's New Year's Eve, and Santana is by herself back in Lima sitting alone on this fucking hill. She can't honestly say what she's doing. Perhaps just because she's so used to the way she's brought in the new year for the last three years, or maybe because it's some sort of search for impossible closure, or maybe she is simply a glutton for punishment. Who knows?

What she does know, though, is that the last six months have, quite possibly, been the worst of her entire life so far.

In the month after Marley left, Santana didn't quite know how to function. At first, she just drunk herself into a stupor and spent as many nights as she could staying away from her apartment. Then she started turning down some of the gigs Harvey booked her, claiming sickness, and stayed away from her two other jobs as well in favour of nursing her hangovers just long enough to be able to drink some more.

It took Quinn coming down from New Haven and literally slapping some sense into her for her to realize that just because Marley was gone, she didn't need to throw her own dreams away as well. Or so Quinn put it, in her wannabe-Ghandi way.

(The only point that Quinn missed is how much Marley factored into her dreams, but oh well, Santana can't win all the battles, so. And on the subject of dreams – sometimes, she still has those that play out scenarios in her head of what would have happened if Marley stayed, if she gave up her life just to move in with her girlfriend fresh out of high school.

It's more nightmares, Santana thinks, when later on in the story they're old and Marley turns bitter and their life is filled with silences where they don't talk about the things that could have been, if Marley had the chance to chase her success, too.)

Two months after Marley was gone, Santana tried to pull some semblance of a life together, and got back in the game. She even managed to dip her toe in the modelling pool for a bit, because like every other door in her life, her face and hot bod helped open it up to better things.

Then she washed her sheets and put all the photos of Marley in her apartment away, and decided that ignorance is bliss.

And now here she is five months later, home for the holidays, spending Christmas alone with her parents and hanging out with Brittany the rest of the time, who is also home for a few days. She escaped every party invitation she received tonight – a shockingly low number of three – in favour of sulking, because New Year's feels like her and Marley's day, somehow, and she just can't deal with people at the moment.

The only company she has are two bottles of wine courtesy of her dad's liquor cabinet, and fuck it, she thinks, maybe it won't be so bad to return to her alcoholic ways if just for one night. But, she also ponders while shifting around, she really did not consider just how uncomfortable this fucking hood is when Marley isn't there to hold her when–

Shit, _don't think about that don't think about it just don't just don't_...

But oh, who is she kidding, it's all she fucking thinks about anyway, so whatever. She just takes another big gulp of wine, and yeah, what the fuck ever.

–

Long after the fireworks have died, Santana finishes the last bottle, crying her fucking eyes out and cursing herself for her lack of foresight, because fuck, she can't drive anywhere like this.

When Brittany answers the phone and swears, Santana knows it means she's like, _really_ angry.

"Santana!" she shouts. "Where the _fuck _are you? I've been worried sick."

Santana sighs, because yeah, she kind of wigged out of Sugar's party without telling Brittany, and she knows Brittany is probably stressed because of how volatile Santana's behaviour has been the for the last couple of months.

Santana isn't on the mood to make excuses, though, so she just asks, in a small voice, "Can you come get me, please?"

And then Brittany just sighs and asks for directions.

–

Ten minutes later, Brittany's second youngest sister drops her off and the sight does nothing but make Santana feel old.

She speeds away and then Brittany's standing in front of the car, taking in the sight of Santana.

She doesn't say anything, and Santana can see the tender pity in her eyes as she reaches out to help Santana off the hood.

She tucks Santana in the passenger side and grabs her keys before driving them to Brittany's house, taking her upstairs and dressing her in some fresh clothes. Then Brittany forces Santana to drink a whole glass of water before pushing her under the covers and crawling in after her.

"Wanna talk about it?" Brittany asks softly, pushing some hair off Santana's forehead. She lies on her side watching the side of Santana's face, who is looking up at the ceiling blankly.

Santana shakes her head and Brittany sighs.

"What were you thinking, going out there in the middle of nowhere by yourself, Santana?" Brittany starts then, although her voice is still soft, and Santana knows it's out of worry. "I know you're... But you can't just do things like that. It's not safe."

"It _is_ safe," Santana speaks up, slurring all those _s_-words a bit. "Been there before. Many times. With Marley."

Brittany shuffles closer and puts a hand on Santana's arm. "San..."

"Three years ago, New Year's, she spent the night making me feel better about you," Santana says, even though Brittany has heard that part already. "Next year, she told me she loves me. And last year we just spent it having sex in a fucking treehouse," Santana chuckles bitterly. "So, I don't know. I guess it's just, New Year's without her... It feels..."

But Santana just starts crying silently instead of finishing that thought, and Brittany sighs out _Oh, San_ before pulling Santana on her side and into Brittany's body, holding her as she cries. Santana clutches at Brittany's shirt and just surrenders to the floodgates, because everything in her is just too much, her thoughts are driving her crazy and she just doesn't know what to do with all these feelings in her body.

"It's been half a year, Brit," Santana sobs, slurring elevated by this now, and she wonders if Brittany can even understand what she's saying, "I wanna stop feeling like this."

"You will, honey," Brittany coos into her hair, "you will."

Santana just focuses on the way Brittany's hand rubs over her lower back, trying to calm down by losing herself in the touch. She pulls away from Brittany's chest and relaxes her grip on Brittany's shirt and finds sparkling eyes in the moonlight.

Brittany's hand comes up and wipes some of the tears from Santana's cheek.

Santana sniffs. "I don't... I want to feel better _now_," she whines, "I just want to stop, stop thinking... I just..."

Santana just shakes her head, inching closer, before quickly propelling herself toward Brittany's lips. Brittany lets her stay there for a few seconds before softly pushing Santana away, stroking her cheek and saying, gently, "Don't do that, Santana."

Santana nods and says, "Okay," in somewhat of a child-like tone.

Brittany just hugs her again and Santana buries her head in Brittany's neck.

"You know that won't help anything," Brittany says.

"I'm sorry," Santana whimpers.

Brittany just squeezes her, and Santana knows she's forgiven.

"You just need to give it time," Brittany says, as Santana finally feels her exhaustion taking over. "You just need some more time."

–

Santana finds that, as the year 2016 steadily passes, Brittany wasn't too far off track with her advice.

Her broken heart morphs from an acute ache to more of a dull throb. It helps that, suddenly, this year seems to be the one where her acting career _really_ starts to take off, with her now acing auditions and jobs coming in almost every two weeks. By summer, she's landing weekly commercials and music videos and modelling gigs, and Harvey tells her that she's becoming one of the agency's hottest commodities.

It all serves to make her feel like maybe, she can really have a sort of happy ending someday after all, even if only in terms of her career.

And summer also brings on something else, when it seems that Brittany decided to end her two year long gap year and tells Santana that in the following school term she will be starting her first semester at Juliard. _Finally_, Santana thinks, even as she's screaming at Brittany over the phone.

This decision ends up impacting Santana in a big way, though, since Brittany also casually mentions that she doesn't want to live in the dorms and is looking for a New York roommate, if Santana might know of somebody looking for a place or who is bored of the scenery in the apartment they've been living in for the past three years.

And so Santana moves in with Brittany – and fucking Lord Tubbington – in what turns out to be a massive upgrade from her own apartment thanks to the sharing rent deal, and she must admit that having constant company to rely on and hang out with after being on her own for so long is also an upgrade in some ways, so everybody wins.

She also buys a whole new bed and covers for the move because, even though it sounds crazy, sometimes she swears she could still smell Marley on the sheets.

Before she steps out of her apartment for the last time, she takes out one of the six envelopes she got throughout the year. Marley has been writing to Santana, about every two months, just short letters, telling her some innocuous details about her new life as if they were ordinary pen pals, perhaps guessing that any mention of them or their parting could be too much for Santana to handle – which would have been correct.

To make sure the new tenant doesn't get any strange letters from Los Angeles, Santana replies to one of these letters for the very first time, telling Marley about the move – making a real effort to emphasize how platonic it all is – and that she wishes Marley all the best.

She doesn't include her new address anywhere in the letter.

She doesn't want it to hurt anymore.

–

By the end of the year, Santana can say that she has a rocking career, lives in an awesome new apartment and manages to survive New Year's in New York this time around, and is marginally happier in her life without Marley, so.

She guesses that's something.

–

Early on in 2017, she makes a drastic change and quits her two day jobs.

She's making enough money with her acting career now, anyway, and this opens up her schedule for more auditions and working on performing exclusively, and it's strange to think that wow, yeah, she's actually a legit actress now.

She misses singing, though, she's not going to lie, and she never pictured her future being so dry of it, but then again, she never thought her face would turn out to be so lucrative, either, so at least that's a good enough consolation, for now.

Santana knows that what's happening with her career now is just an ankle above getting her foot in the door, and so a lot of things can still happen, that much is clear.

–

She expects herself to have a slight Marley-related relapse as April arrives, knowing what the month would have meant for her if things were different, but instead the most miraculous thing happens.

She gets another stint on television, this time a five episodical arc where she just plays some jealous ex that reappears to shake up an insignificant little couple on some MTV show, and it's so fucking amazing that she doesn't have time to focus on anything else related to the month she's in.

Harvey tells her that this is it, that it's things like these which eventually reels in the bigger fish, and it's all just too wonderful for Santana to comprehend.

At the end of the two week long shoot, Brittany takes her out and they celebrate, _properly_.

They get crazy levels of drunk and hop through several bars and clubs and meet more people than they can care to count, and Santana blacks out late in the night and when her head pounds her awake the next morning, she rolls over and sees a naked redhead sleeping soundly next to her in bed.

Santana starts and then freezes, and holy fucking shit, Santana realizes, she is also bare under the sheets. She quietly scoops up some clothes in fear of waking her … _guest_ … before quickly and silently escaping into the bathroom.

She throws up violently, showers and scrubs more vigorously than usual, gets dressed and then hides in the bathroom for at least half an hour until she hears movement in the apartment. When their front door opens and closes, Santana lets out a relieved sigh and finally exits the room.

The first thing she sees when she comes out is Brittany standing in the kitchen, smiling tenderly upon seeing Santana's deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Fun night?" Brittany asks, biting her lip.

When Brittany sees the look on Santana's face, though, she sighs and grabs a second cup of coffee before walking over to Santana.

"San," she says gently, giving Santana the coffee and placing a hand on her shoulder, "it's been almost two years. You're allowed to be happy."

Santana gulps, trying not to cry as she finds the right words. "I don't want... I'm not ready for..."

Brittany seems to read her mind when she interrupts, saying, "No one said anything about a relationship, Santana," before squeezing Santana's shoulder and disappearing into her room.

Santana only realizes how tightly she's gripping her cup when she hisses as the heat burns her fingers.

–

It's easier, after that first incident.

The next time, she doesn't black out, but does get significantly drunk enough to be pulled over to some blonde's house and having her brains fucked out, only to leave the next morning without even learning the chick's name – not even really remembering her face, either.

The time after that, it's her apartment again, and after that, it's just an alley behind the club, and then a bathroom, and then someplace else, and another, and another, and so it goes.

It's fun, and does wonders for her stress levels, and later she stops feeling guilty, because, well, it's not like she has a girlfriend, anyway, and she's only fucking human, and the human body needs some primal things to keep it going.

(Some nights, though, when it's just her and her hand, like it's been for the past two years, Santana thinks of Marley, always Marley, because for some reason not even the best of the nameless and faceless girls can make her feel even a fraction of what Marley could with a simple _look_, and she doesn't know if that's something that's ever going to fade away.)

–

Then suddenly summer passes and Brittany's starting her second year at Juliard and Santana lands, after a gruelling auditioning process, a part in a television pilot.

She's on set for a whole month, working her ass of and being surprised at her own fucking presence on an actual fucking show that she may freaking star in if it gets picked up. She plays a bad girl that probably has a future redemption arc in store in yet another teen drama that revolves around some upper class New York school.

Santana feels a bit strange playing a high schooler when she's already twenty-three, but she guesses that's how it's done in the business, and because of that she's actually younger than most of her cast mates, so she can't even imagine how they must feel.

At the end of the month, they've all become good friends and she's expanded her circle of professional contacts even more, and she really doesn't underestimate just what a fucking _experience_ this is, every moment that she's working on it.

Another experience one of her costars, Ann, who she's become fast friends with in the short time they've worked together. It's been a week since they've wrapped, and her and Ann have been hanging out almost every day since, and tonight Ann's taken her to a bar where they're drinking some fancy ass cocktails that Santana thinks is way too expensive for the lackluster buzz she's getting of it.

And she doesn't want to take things the wrong way, but, Ann's been sending her these _vibes_, and Santana jut doesn't know, maybe it's just a friends thing, but whatever it is, Santana's in a high enough mood after the pilot shoot to welcome any of it, really.

Later, when they're walking home, Santana laughs at everything Ann says, and it's nice, this, going about the streets of New York, strolling with a fucking costar, of all things, living the life she's always wanted.

Ann reaches out to her at the foot of her apartment and then kisses Santana softly before smiling and bidding her goodnight, and oh, okay, so she wasn't misreading any of that, as it turns out.

–

So, the pilot doesn't get picked up, but this thing with Ann actually does.

It feels weird to be dating someone after being out of practice for so long, but she likes that being with Ann is easy and comfortable, and not at all the all-consuming type of relationship that she had with Marley or even Brittany, and that makes things much simpler, too.

Maybe she's growing up, in that way.

–

She dates Ann until early 2018, when they eventually break up because of some drama to do with one of Ann's ex-girlfriends, or something in that line.

Despite being an actor now, Santana prides herself on not being over dramatic in any way, but Ann has always been a little bit different, in that aspect.

Santana realizes, looking back, that she never actually once fought with either Brittany or Marley, because Brittany has always been her best friend and there was no need for that when they were dating, and she guesses she was too far away from Marley too often to waste their time together getting into ridiculous spats.

And Santana doesn't like conflict, not at all, and so it really grated on her nerves whenever Ann wanted to go at it over stupid things, but she guesses that every relationship can't be perfect, so whatever. She also guesses that sometimes Ann was just in it for the make-up sex, and that's just like, she could have just asked, really, Santana doesn't like the idea of having to fight to feel the passion, but like she said, whatever.

Ann was cute and nice and it was rather pleasant having someone there for a while, but after it's done Santana doesn't really feel all that affected by it.

2018 brings with it some more flings, including a hot waitress named Molly, a temperamental dancer friend of Brittany's named Joan, and a strangely tall Canadian named Sarah, who bends in ways Santana didn't think such a gangly body was capable of.

But more than that, it also brings another pilot opportunity for Santana, and this time, that bitch gets picked up.

It's one of those lawyer-type shows where Santana plays a high school senior, the daughter of the rather fucking interesting messed-up protagonist, with her acting as his voice of reason while he rumbles off in law terms without much social grace. And Santana doesn't know much about this stuff but even she could tell from the script that this is some quality shit that she ended up in.

It's crazy, hearing that she's going to be a featured guest star for a whole season, and that she starts working in August and shit, this is really happening, she thinks, while she places her signature on what seems like thousands of contract papers.

–

She's a full out featured actress on network television for a whole year after that, and God is she fucking proud of it, watching the episodes every Tuesday night with Brittany in their apartment.

She thinks her best work comes in the finale, when her character is off to college out of state – deliberately not naming names to keep their options open for the next season – and she shares a very emotional goodbye with her father at the airport.

It didn't take much acting, obviously, and she knows that she really got at everything the scene called for when Brittany's sniffling next to her on the couch as the episode comes to a close.

Brittany knows what that scene cost Santana to access, though, and so she hugs Santana for long moments after the show ends, telling her how proud she is of what Santana's done.

–

When the summer of 2019 arrives, Brittany finishes up her third year and Santana gets the news of her life – the show has been renewed for another season.

The people on the top call for a meeting with her, telling her what they envision for her character in the second season and if there's any input she wants to add, because they're considerate like that.

Turns out her character will still be appearing regularly through phone conversations and Skype sessions with her dad, and later on in the series she will get in some trouble at school which forces her father to come to her aid and fly all the way out to Los Angeles.

Santana sits up straight. "Los Angeles?"

"Now," says the exec with the bushy eyebrows, "we understand if you aren't willing to relocate, and we have a back-up plan in place if you aren't."

"Because, of course," another guy chirps in, Jonathan, the man who wears a hideous orange tie every time Santana sees him, "we understand if you have ties in New York, family, boyfriend, friends, what have you. So, we could ensure that most of your scenes are in your dorm or at school somewhere, and only fly you out once or twice to cover some outdoor scenes."

"But for the aesthetic of the show, we'd really love to break away from courtrooms and offices more often and add some more diverse scenery to the mix," bushy eyebrows says.

"And," one of the writers speaks up, "it be more of a contrast, you know, your father being locked up with work and showing you breaking free and living the life that comes without the shackles of parenting, showed by you being outside more than in the house, like you were last season."

They often do this, Santana's found in the meager times she's met with them, going off on rants about technical things and equations that leaves Santana just grasping for straws, at times. But she just tries staying focused on what they're asking, instead, and takes about two seconds to say, "Yes."

"Yes?" bushy eyebrow man asks.

"I don't mind moving," Santana explains, and that seems to please everyone, and so it's set, she's going up there in the midst of summer.

She thinks it would be a nice change of pace, a sort of adventure in this new world of success and acting she's found herself in, being in the capital of the media world and seeing what comes of it.

(She ignores the ringing in her ears that has stayed there since she heard the words, _Los Angeles_.)

–

Now all Santana has to do is tell Brittany that she's moving out, and the planning can commence.

After explaining it all, Brittany looks mildly sad, even though she's excited for Santana. Santana can understand the sadness, she feels it too after being roommates for three years and best friends for life, and she knows more than anyone, what its like to be left alone.

But she's twenty-five now, in the height of her career, and if there's anyone that understands why she needs to do this, it should be the person that grew up with her.

"You know, I've always wanted to go to Los Angeles," Brittany says thoughtfully, "When I visited there and I felt the sun and sea and the people... I thought that was where I want to be, you know, like you felt about New York in high school. But I loved the idea of Juliard too, and if you and Quinn were close, of course I'd choose to be here."

"I'll help you look for a roommate, Britt," Santana says. "Hell, Quinn can even move in here since she's finished at Yale."

Brittany nods, but still looks solemn."Yeah, it's just... I thought New York was your dream, and now you're leaving."

"It _is_ my dream, and it's given me so many great things, it got me where I am today," Santana says. "It let me do things I'd never do back home. I mean, what were the chances I'd knock someone over in Lima and get an agency deal out of it?" Santana sighs. "_That's_ what I came for when I got to New York, and maybe this is just my next step, you know? I just feel like it's the right thing, right now. I don't know how long this show will last."

"As long as you're doing this for _you_, Santana," Brittany says seriously, levelling her with a stare. "And not just chasing some totally wild Marley-like dream by moving to the other side of the country."

Santana purses her lips, but Brittany's glare doesn't falter for a second. "That's not... Brittany, this is my job now, okay? I really don't want to leave you. It's just– This is an opportunity. I've always followed these chances and it's gotten me great places. I told you, it feels _right_."

That's the truth, Santana tells herself.

The whole truth.

–

Santana misses Quinn and Brittany, and the times Quinn would come up to town and the three of them would hang out, but she's more than comfortable in the awesome flat she's been set up in, and slowly finds herself falling in love with this new town.

More than that, she also regularly meets up with Puck and Mercedes, who she called the minute she landed in Los Angeles, and it feels nice, that familiarity to go along her settlement in a new place.

She appears in magazines, too, simply as herself, talking about her role and the show, and it's surreal, not just being a face for clothes, but a _name_, even if it's not a name that travels, but just one that producers won't turn down when she pitches up for auditions, now.

She meets more Los Angeles girls and dates some of them, briefly, but mostly just engages in some wild one night stands, and that feels like enough, when viewed in the big picture.

Her character also gets a college love interest, and it's a nice guy called Jack that she gets on with just fine off set, and he introduces her to most of his friends, who she gets along with just swell, and then she feels settled, here in Los Angeles.

By the time new year arrives, she feels on top of the world.

–

She still thinks about Marley, most times.

She knows that Marley must have finished at university last summer, and that by now she must have been living in the real world for about a year.

Sometimes, she pictures Marley in a studio, writing and producing and having the time of her life, her bosses seeing what a perfect fucking specimen she is and taking her in immediately, helping her write songs for anyone from Beyoncé to Gaga, and Santana smiles at the thought, knowing that wherever she is, Marley must be doing great.

At others, she wonders if she'll ever turn on the radio one day, listen to the announcer telling her that she's about to hear the newest single for the most successful singer-songwriter at the moment, Miss Marley Rose.

She's never listened to the radio much, but since she's moved here, she's listened to it nonstop – reliving the day Marley told Santana she wants to be a singer on the radio over and over again – and though Santana's never believed in much in her life, she _knows_ that Marley is the one that will make her dreams come true, soon.

She might not know if Marley is even still in Los Angeles, but keeps up hope, listening every day to hear if Marley's songs appear on the waves.

She knows it's just matter of time.

–

Early on in the year 2020, she gets the best twenty-sixth birthday present ever when she hears, on the very day of her birth, that they've been renewed for a third season.

In between, she's been doing more minor television appearances and also struck an endorsement deal with some small clothing brand, and Santana pinches herself at least twice a day to remember that yeah, this is happening.

By summer, she gets lonely in her apartment after living with Brittany for so long, and in the hiatus between seasons, she decides to ring up Mercedes and ask how her living arrangements are going. She also calls Brittany, who just finished her fourth year, and asks her if she still feels like Los Angeles is the place she should be.

When Santana moves into a massive apartment with Mercedes and Brittany, she feels like she's _there_, that this is it for her, the height of her life, and it's a rare thing, this, she thinks. Not every teenager ends up in this exact place, living her dreams and sharing an apartment in one of the grandest cities in the world with some of their best friends.

She thinks back to her days in high school, worrying about who she liked and what it would mean to the rest of the world, and then scoffs at the memory and thinks that now it's just like, fuck everyone else, because she's Santana fucking Lopez, living her life and chasing her dreams and there's not much that can stop her, now.

–

There's this fantastic little coffee shop they normally go to. It's about five blocks from their apartment, serves the most fucking amazing caramel macchiatos and the cheesiest fucking cheese and ham croissants, and they're addicted.

It's at the end of 2020 and Santana has made the sacrifice to come here on a Saturday morning and stand in the queue just so that Mercedes and Brittany can have their weekend caffeine fix. It's a fucking popular place, and going there on the weekend is like torture, but totally fucking worth it – Santana swears the coffee is imported from Mars, or something.

Granted, it's her turn to collect, since every weekend they switch places with the goal of picking up each other's coffee, but even being prepared for it doesn't make it any less of a sacrifice, so.

Things have been going better than she ever thought it could have. Brittany's choreographing now – which is like, duh, everyone should have seen her talent years ago – and has even worked with Rihanna once, and Santana knows there are even more great things to come. After years of fighting against her own image, Mercedes finally has an album out with a better recording contract and it seems things are just starting to take off for her, and Santana knows, after spending a whole with the girl in the Troubletones and seeing her dedication to the craft, that this is just the _start_.

Santana sighs when she feels her phone vibrate and sees Brittany's name on her screen, and seriously, that girl is just too impatient, because hell, she was here just last weekend, she ought to know how long it takes to get to the head of the queue.

She picks up the phone and just waits for Brittany to say whatever she needs too.

"San?" Brittany's voice asks. "Are you on your way home already? Withdrawal, withdrawal!"

Santana hears Mercedes groan along with Brittany, and can picture the two of them lounging in front of the television, waiting for Santana to bring them some coffee, and then just chuckles at the image in her head.

"Patience is a virtue," Santana says seriously. "Just pop on some TLC and time will fly by." Santana sighs, looking at the giant guy in front of her, and the line heading to the cashier. "But, seriously, you guys can get comfortable because Saturday madness is in full swing this side."

Brittany groans before imitating Santana. "I needz mah coffee!" she says.

Santana would have laughed if not for the fact that the person standing in the line up ahead of the giant in front of her turns around at the sound of her voice, and then, shit.

It's Marley motherfucking Rose.

Santana freezes, holding the phone to her ear and staring as Marley stares back at her. It's like her brain is filled with white noise, focusing in on Marley's face, and God, it's really her.

It's like, really, _really_, her. Standing in line of the same fucking coffee shop at the same fucking day in the same city, at the same fucking time.

Santana can hear Brittany asking if she's still there, but her eyes just rake over Marley, like...

Just.

_What_.

It's _Marley_.

"Santana?" Marley asks in a small voice, and Santana just gulps.

She puts the phone down in Brittany's ear and then looks at Marley, really _looks_, and shit, this is too strange for her too handle.

It's like everything else disappears then, when Santana nods, and just walks closer to make sure it's really her, reaching forward blindly until she makes contact with Marley's shirt and then they're hugging, tightly, and Santana's mind is just blank, because _what_.

She becomes acutely aware of where she is when the giant in front of her asks if they're still in line, and Santana just scowls at him while Marley politely says that they'll be just behind him, thanks, and then she's pulling away and Santana sees that shit, this is _Marley_, it's fucking Marley, and she never thought that she'd be this unprepared for their reunion – if it ever came to that, while she was in Los Angeles.

"Marley," Santana breathes out in turn, and then Marley just smiles, that fucking familiar, knee-buckling fucking _Marley_ smile, and Santana just stands there, walking the queue silently and grabbing three coffees alongside Marley, watching to see everything that's different about this girl, this girl that's been at the back of her mind for the past few years.

She says nothing, even as they're both sitting down at a miraculous open table in some silent pact that they're going to have their coffee together now, and just watches as Marley settles in her chair and takes a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes a bit, and shit.

When Marley opens her eyes again, Santana just watches her and it's like whoa, this is Marley sitting across from her, and God.

It's been five years since they saw each other last, in summer, when Marley was getting ready for university and that exec dropped the bomb on them that they needed to deal with, at the time.

(She remembers how, the moment Marley told her she was going away, how it felt like time stopped. But after that, in her life without Marley, everything just felt like it snowballed, how these five years suddenly feel like they just flew by, like she really hasn't been _seeing_ any of the details around her, and now, well.

_Now_, seeing Marley right in front of her, it's like now everything actually slows down, like time really stops, and everything is in its place again. It makes her slightly dizzy, to be thrown back into the present so suddenly, and Santana just tries not too fall off her fucking chair at the feeling.)

And now Santana is twenty-six and Marley is twenty-four, but somehow Santana's feels like she's still staring back at the girl she fell in love with all those years ago.

But Marley is different, even Santana can't deny that, with her clothes that doesn't say _hand me down_ anymore, but instead, _here I am_, and her cheekbones that are more defined, and her height that's towering more over Santana than before, and her smile, that somehow seems even brighter to Santana than the last time she saw it in it's entirety, when she asked Marley to move into her apartment, just before everything went to shit.

Santana must visibly shake her head at the memory, because Marley lifts up her eyebrow at the movement before smiling slightly, and it's just this mutual understanding between them, then, that this is maybe just too unbelievable for words.

"So," Marley starts, and Santana just laughs, because, well.

Fucking _so_.

–

She learns quite a few things in the time they sit in that fucking overcrowded coffee shop.

Marley is staying in Los Angeles for the foreseeable future, having gotten a permanent job at a pretty influential record company in her final year of university. She's living in a flat that's about a ten minute drive away from Santana and Santana tries not too smile too widely at the knowledge. At work, Marley's writing songs and getting to know more about things on the producing side rather than just the production side, and Santana can tell she really likes her life.

Santana has never been more happy about someone else's happiness than right now.

Marley tells her that she's been watching the show Santana stars in from it's inception and Santana smiles bashfully, then goes into full on shy dead-locked mode when Marley tells her, sincerely, that she's so proud of what Santana's achieved. Santana can only smile and offer the same in turn.

When they've caught up on the past five years on their lives, Santana sees an hour has passed and they've drunk the coffee she was supposed to give to Brittany and Mercedes.

Just when she wonders what happens next, someone jostles into her chair, and the uncomfortableness of the small coffee shop just gets to her, finally.

Marley sees the grimace on Santana's face and asks, "Want to go for a walk?" and Santana just nods, because she's sure Marley just read her mind again.

–

They walk for ages, just rounding blocks and heading nowhere in particular – passing the same diner thrice – talking about small things like how Marley's mom moved to LA about three years ago after getting a job at a quaint little restaurant, not being able to stand being so far away from Marley when they're all each other's got. And Marley fills her in on all the secret spots of LA she's found, and which ones she thinks Santana would like and should avoid at all costs. And about Brittany's time at Juliard and how things are going with Quinn and her folks back home and though it all feels familiar, these topics, Santana feels like she's only scratching the surface of who Marley is now.

Like, they used to be so close and their lives were so intimately connected, and now it's just catch-up, and there's many things Santana knows she can't ask, because for one it's fucking awkward and perhaps too invasive for an ex who she hasn't seen in ages.

And even though Marley still feels like one of her best friends, it's not like she can ask the burning question of whether or not Marley's met someone else, while they were apart, of if she's seeing anyone, now. Or if she finally got that tattoo she wanted, on the low side of her hip, a music note similar to the pendant Santana got her. She can't ask if Marley's wearing that pendant under that shirt and light scarf she's sporting, just like Santana's wearing the one Marley got her right at this moment – has been wearing it non-stop since she got it – under her own sweater.

But she's happy, like this, keeping her eyes trained on Marley as they walk, scared of looking away in fear of her disappearing out of sight when she looks back, and it's all a bit surreal, this.

When it's late in the afternoon, Marley comes to a slow halt and Santana sighs, knowing that they're time together is probably over for now.

She is just debating on asking Marley for her current number in the most relaxed way she can think of when Marley bites her lip and points to the apartment block they're standing outside of.

"This is me," Marley says, fidgeting, and Santana wonders if she's feeling the same thing, hoping that unlike the last time, this is not another goodbye for them forever.

It's a drastic thought, but one not born without history, and so Santana just nods, trying to smile in a way that lets Marley know she doesn't want to say goodbye either.

(Ever again.)

"Do you want to see my LA-pad?" Marley asks jokingly, straining her voice to emulate those guys Santana has come across so often in this city, playing big shots when they're anything but.

Santana just laughs and follows Marley inside.

–

It's quiet riding up the elevator and Santana is beyond impressed with where Marley is living. She must be doing so well for herself if this is the kind of place she can stay in when Santana knows she doesn't have the kind of parental back-up fund Santana herself had after school.

Marley chuckles as Santana looks at everything around her in awe, and then just says, softly, "No student loans, remember?"

And Santana just nods because that is literally the closest mention they've had all day to _them_ and what went down between them.

They walk down the hall in silence and then Marley's pulling out her keys and letting Santana walk over the threshold, and Santana just kind of stands there, taking in what she can see of the place from the entranceway while Marley locks the door behind her.

She quickly gets distracted from her prying, though, when she feels a soft hand tug on her wrist, and then looks down to find Marley's fingers softly thread through her own.

When she looks up, Marley's peering back at her with that fucking _look_, knowing and enquiring all at once, and Santana stares back, also full of questions with the unspoken things not dealt with between them.

Marley tugs again, and then Santana's facing her, and then Santana feels herself being gently pushed back into the wall behind her, and then Marley is right there, holding onto her hand and waist and resting her forehead down against Santana's, and _oh_.

It's like the sham is over, then, the one they've been interacting under for the whole afternoon, like the world just falls away and it's just them, like it always was, and Santana wonders if she just imagined all the years in between because this, right here, this is what life's always been about for her, she realizes, and God, she just closes her eyes, breathes in, _feels_ Marley so close.

Santana brings her hand up to caress Marley's cheek and then opens her eyes to find Marley's own, bright blue and searching.

"I missed you," Marley murmurs in a low voice, and Santana just nods in reply, because _miss_ doesn't even begin to cover it.

Long seconds pass wherein Santana just nuzzles her nose against Marley's, keeping their foreheads connected slowly stroking her thumb over Marley's jaw. But they're inching closer, closer, Santana knows, and then Marley's pressing even more into her and Santana's tilting her head up until their lips connect.

Santana sighs into it, actually fucking feels her whole body relax in relief, and feels Marley's arm tighten to steady her against the wall, because she's probably forgot all about her basic motor functions, unable to concentrate on anything else but the feel of Marley's lips against her own.

It's all too much of everything and somehow still not enough, not even close.

It's just so fucking...

It's _perfect_.

–

Long minutes are spent kissing, so freaking deeply that Santana loses all sense of space and time.

Later, much, much later, Marley softly pulls away and smiles gently at Santana, grabbing her hand and leading her through the nearest door, and Santana would be upset that she can't get a good look around and get to know the new Marley, but she guesses she's going to be doing that in a different way now anyway, so it's not that big of a loss.

Marley closes the door behind Santana by pushing her into it again, softly still, although Santana can feel that Marley's controlling her pace, like she needs to focus on not slamming Santana into it, and the thought makes Santana smile into their next kiss.

Santana throws her arms around Marley's neck and Marley's wound around her hips, before moving down and down until she's hiking Santana up by the back of her thighs. Santana puts her legs around Marley as Marley carries her over to the large double bed, and somehow, even though Marley has done this many times before, somehow she feels stronger than she always was, and Santana guesses that that's just another thing that's changed.

Her back makes contact with the mattress and then Marley's lowering her weight onto Santana, and God, they haven't been pressed together like this for a long time, and Santana just groans slightly at the feel of Marley's weight on top of her.

Santana keeps her legs locked behind Marley's back, not wanting to let go of her for a second, and then they're kissing like it'll keep them breathing, running their hands all over each other, trying to familiarize themselves with it all.

The frenzied pace dies down a bit, after a while, and then Marley shifts until she's lying next to Santana instead, bodies still intertwined, and they're just sharing long kisses now. Marley's arms stretches over Santana's waist and pulls her impossibly closer, before pulling away from Santana softly, only to litter her entire face with kisses.

Santana chuckles slightly as she does this, and when Marley pulls back, she can't help the wide smile that blooms on her face, only to become even wider when Marley smiles right back at her.

"I'm glad you're here," Marley whispers, before placing a light kiss to Santana's nose.

She buries her face in Santana's neck, getting comfortable, and Santana just sighs out, "Me too."

Santana doesn't care if it's not even dark out yet, she feels so comfortable and sleepy and as if she's just been thrown into some Wonderland type scenario, that she just settles in against Marley, feeling her eyes become heavy.

It's a very peculiar moment, but Santana just rolls with it, because no matter what, she doesn't think she'll change it for the world.

–

Santana is rudely awakened what must not be even an hour later.

Judging by the light streaming through the window, the sun has only just set.

Almost on instinct, as if it hasn't been years since she's done so, she pulls Marley closer to her, who just snuggles in, still sleeping heavily. Santana grins, thinking that it's nice to know that that is something that hasn't changed.

And then she hears a repeat of the sound that woke her up in the first place, a shrill voice calling, "Marley?" again from the other side of the door.

For about two seconds, her mind wonders who it is until Marley's door bursts open, and some girl comes in who narrows her eyes as soon as they lock onto Santana.

Marley finally shrugs awake at the bang of the door, and Santana feels her move against her, but only barely as she tries to figure out what this girl's deal is, who is now looking between Marley and Santana with a hurt expression on her face, eyes flicking between their bodies.

And then the girl shakes her head while watching Marley, now, and just yells, "I can not _believe_ you!"

Marley sits up and Santana frowns, because–

Well, fuck.

That wasn't quite in the plan.

Marley mutters _Shit_ under her breath and Santana just lies there for a second, until Marley looks at her with an apologetic expression and says, "Can you just... I'll be right back, okay?"

And then she's off, darting out of her room, and Santana just stares up at the ceiling for about two seconds before getting her ass into gear and slipping out of the front door unnoticed, trying to ignore the shouting on the other side of the apartment.

She can't blame Marley, really, she thinks as she's walking back home, dejectedly.

If she had run into Marley whilst being in another relationship, she can't quite say that she won't be able to resist slipping into old habits, like they just did. (And like she used to, with Brittany. This seems to be a pattern with her.)

But if it's gotten to a point where she was _living_ with another women, she doesn't know if it would be quite the same.

Still, she sighs, maybe–

No, she thinks, she doesn't know if she can just be friends with Marley. Maybe ever again. Maybe she'll just wait a bit longer. Maybe things will change. Well, so she hopes.

And fuck, bad timing is going to be the death of her, she thinks.

–

When she gets back home, she slams the front door and Brittany appears from nowhere, harassing her about not answering her phone and being worried and all that shit, but there is not a moment in her life where Santana could have possibly cared less about it than right now.

But Brittany really takes a look at her, then, and her tone instantly changes, asking Santana what's wrong instead.

"Not now, Britt," she mumbles, before stalking over to her room door, ignoring an equally perplexed Mercedes looking up at her from the couch.

She slams her bedroom door, too, for good measure, and then just falls down onto her bed, hoping that tomorrow will be slightly fucking better than today.

–

She's awoken by the bed dipping and then looks up to see blonde hair and blue eyes staring down at her.

She can tell by the ache in her body and the fact it it's still dark out that yet again she's been bothered barely an hour before going to bed, and Jesus, is she not going to get any sleep today?

Brittany sighs and pushes some hair out of Santana's face, and Santana just rubs at her eyes and stares up at Brittany.

Santana can see the look on Brittany's face, like she wants to tell Santana something but is afraid of the damage it might do, and there really is nothing more endearing than Brittany playing mom, so Santana just peers up at her from the pillow, eyes fighting to stay open.

Brittany whispers, slowly, like it will take away the blow if she stretches out the words, "You want to tell me why Marley Rose is standing in our living room wanting to know if you're home?"

And well, now Santana's awake.

"Calm down," Brittany says, as Santana jolts up, eyes wide. "I can tell her to leave if you want. You just say the word."

Santana bites her lip. She knows Marley must have guessed where she lived when Santana told her about the building, and then saw the Pierce-Jones-Lopez outside on their buzzer. Santana just sighs and nods, letting Brittany know it's okay, and Brittany looks at her for a few seconds before relenting and standing up.

"Just so you know," Brittany says before she heads out the door, "I'll forgive you for acting like a jerk today in light of the circumstances, but as a penance I expect to hear every detail of this later."

Then she's gone and the door creaks as Marley's face appears through it and after she steps inside, she closes the door behind her.

Marley smiles at her slyly, like she knows a secret Santana doesn't, and then just comes over and sits next to Santana on the bed. Santana sits up and moves away slightly when she sees Marley reach out for her, because she doesn't know what Marley's playing at here, and she hasn't processed everything that happened today yet, but, well.

She'll never be the other woman, ever. That's a promise she's made herself long ago, and she's not ever going to break that, not even for Marley Rose.

"How many times are we going to play this game, Santana?" Marley says, completely amused, and shit, maybe she has changed a bit more than Santana thought, approaching adultery so flippantly.

Santana's about to put her foot down, she tells herself, because as much as she wants to be in Marley's life again, she won't have it be like this, and so she starts, "Marley–" but is cut off.

"That was my roommate," Marley says, and Santana frowns, because, okay, what? Marley never mentioned a roommate earlier. "Angry at me because I promised to help her out with cooking a special dinner for her parents, who only visit twice a year, while she worked today, but instead I got... er, a little... _caught up_."

So, Santana is a fool, as per usual, and now she knows what Marley meant with the game they play – the one where Santana's insecurities makes her jump to conclusions and she's left looking like an idiot and Marley just smiles as she pulls Santana back together.

Marley's smiling now, too, and well, at the very least, it's good to see that they've not lost their knack for repeating history. Santana looks down, embarrassed, and just hears Marley chuckle and feels her scoot closer.

"You're..." Santana starts, wondering how to phrase this. "You're... _not_ seeing anyone?"

"Nope," Marley answers quickly. "Very much available, and very much still enamoured with you."

Marley puts a hand on Santana's own, and Santana turns it over so Marley can draw patterns on her palms, just like that day in the taxi on the way to the airport, and Santana closes her eyes as a myriad of emotions hit her all at once.

"I want to take a step for once, Santana," Marley says, so softly that Santana has to look at her to make out her next words by semi-reading her lips, "and tell you that it's mad that we just met again, and there's so much time to make up for, but I don't want to waste any of it anymore."

Santana's eyes flicker between Marley's own, trying to read her thoughts, subtly pinching her own thigh under the covers to make sure this is all still real.

"It's crazy, and totally impulsive, but..." Marley smiles, running her fingers up Santana's arm. "Be with me," she asks. "I want us to try again."

Maybe, the rational part of her says, maybe it's all too much, this, everything that just happened within hours of them reuniting again. Going from strangers to kissers to a misunderstanding to fucking getting together again immediately.

But instead, Santana thinks, as she's leaning in to kiss Marley – it tastes of a second chance – somehow it still feels like it's not enough, after all the waiting.

Marley pulls away briefly, and jokingly asks, "Deal?" and Santana just laughs and pulls her closer again.

Not even nearly enough.

–

It's different, with Marley, this time.

It's strange being together when they're both adults, both settled into their own lives and kind of merging together, instead of being young and figuring things out together. They meet at the own leisure, working in time together around work instead of school, and whenever and wherever they want instead of Skype schedules and short bursts of togetherness during holidays.

And _Marley_ is different. Being financially independent has given a very new dynamic to their interaction. Santana is so used to paying for things for them and being the one to take flights to see Marley and the old routine they had in that way, that now it's something to get used to whenever Marley swipes the bill on their dinners or picks Santana up and gets the taxi tab or whenever Marley surprises her with a weekend to San Francisco or something in that line. And all she can do is just kind of stare at this girl, the very same girl she knew back then, that's just a bit, well, _more_ than before.

(Marley's body is somewhat different, too. It's edges are more defined and the skin is somehow even more soft than Santana remembers.

The way Marley makes her feel, though – like Santana is far, far too big for her own skin?

Well, that stays _exactly_ the same.)

So it's safe to say, then, that it doesn't take very long for Santana to fall back in love with Marley, utterly and completely, in that very all-consuming way that she heartily welcomes, now.

–

Time starts passing in vivid colour, and Santana feels as if she just arose from a very long dream, and now she's awake in the most wonderful of realities, with Marley right there at her side.

On New Year's Eve, when 2021 arrives, Marley kisses her and, like so many years before, tells Santana she loves her for the first time since they met again, and Santana just replies that she never stopped loving Marley, really, and Marley just smiles and concurs before kissing Santana again.

In March, Santana's television show gets canceled, but she's completely okay with that, because she's in a town that has a pot full of new options waiting for her, and she can't worry knowing there'll be something around the corner for her, soon.

By summer, Santana's urged Marley to record her own album on the side and see where that takes her after sensing Marley just needed that push, and so Marley sets to work on making things happen for herself. Soon after, Santana gets a new role on another lawyer-type show where she plays a young intern at the company mostly there for comedic relief, but she loves it regardless.

The most wonderful thing happens when Mercedes and Marley crosses paths professionally, and ultimately Mercedes decides that she wants some of Marley's unused songs for herself, and that turns out to be a strange mash-up of Santana's life, in a way. Together, Marley and Mercedes create some music fucking magic, and Santana's even surprised when Mercedes decides to put a little Troubletones bonus track on her album, and then she, Brittany, Marley and Mercedes all spend a glorious week in the studio goofing off and recording a sick track, which will remain one of the best times in Santana's life ever, she's sure.

At the end of the year, Santana's so fucking content she think she might combust, and fuck, things have never been better.

–

This was a bad idea.

Santana has always opted out of doing the traditional Christmas dinner thing, because she is not a willing participant for inducting that kind of stress upon herself, but now she and Marley have somehow been _graced_ with the task of cooking the motherfucking turkey.

Mercedes and Brittany are out shopping on the day before fucking Christmas, the crazy bitches, and Santana knows that they're going to take ages, because shit, she won't even stand in those lines if someone paid her. Santana was hoping to get in some morning sex in their absence, but Marley warded off all advances so they can focus on the task at hand.

Which really did not make Santana any more in the mood for this fucking cooking expedition, but here they are.

And it's a complete disaster, too. Santana doesn't know what happened, but after two hours of prepping and stuffing and all that jazz, they put the turkey in the oven, and now, one hour later, it looks like shit.

It's half pink and half grey, and Santana is dumbfounded, because both her and Marley are pretty fucking wonderful cooks, though turkey-virgins, and she did not expect this to take so much fucking exertion to perfect.

She and Marley just shrug at each other and put it in again, and after another half an hour, a drastic change has occurred. Like, it's _black_.

Santana looks at it for about two seconds before bursting into laughter with Marley right on her heels.

"Take-out for Christmas, then," Santana says, grabbing her phone as Marley reaches for the menu.

–

"Do you believe in do-overs?" Marley asks later, as they're lounging on the couch, still waiting for Brittany and Mercedes to come home.

For some reason, Santana gauges that she's not talking about the turkey.

Santana smiles. "I think it's clear that I do," she says, squeezing Marley's hand, pointing out the obvious.

"More of a second opportunity, I think," Marley says, then brings Santana's hand up to her mouth and kisses it. "But no, I meant like, if you could erase something in the past completely by doing it over again, now, and taking it as the only reality that exists, so that the previous memory of a certain event couldn't mar joy of the present result?"

"You been reading too much Socrates again, love?"

Marley snickers, but then looks at Santana seriously, and Santana tenses. Marley brings up a hand to brush some hair out of Santana's face.

"I messed it all up last time," Marley says softly, and Santana immediately shakes her head, because that was so not the fucking case at all.

"Marley, you know it wasn't–"

"Let's get a place of our own," Marley says quickly, but then takes a deep breath and adds, "if you want. Or if you think you're ready, again."

Santana is still for long minutes, trying to see if the world will still hold after Marley tried to shake it, going on what happened last time. When everything stays as it is, she asks, just to be sure, "You want to move in with me?"

Marley just nods, keeping one hand on Santana's face and the other still clasped tightly in Santana's own.

Santana kisses Marley, and nothing around them implodes, and so she'd say that that went rather marvelously, after all.

–

Then, 2022 is passing. Santana turns 28 and Marley 26. They get a wonderful apartment that's smack in the middle of their two workplaces, and later, at Marley's insistence, a little kitten with the name of Alfredo makes it into their household.

Santana continues on her show, now not an intern anymore but another office worker on the featured cast, and she sees this show staying on the air for quite some time, so that gives her some job security for the foreseeable future.

Marley releases her album online and gets more copies sold than either of them expects. One of her tunes becomes a summer hit, and Santana holds her when she cries, in pure disbelief and joy, after Santana turns on the radio one day, and there it is, Marley Rose's song playing softly through the speakers.

Brittany moves to London for a year, to join a dance company there, and Santana wonders, with Brittany's carefree spirit, if she's ever coming back. Luckily, Santana thinks, she's got money a-plenty now, so a visit will never be further than a plane ticket away. Quinn is settled in New Haven, it seems, and at least Santana still gets to see her often, too, and besides, it's not like the fucking trinity will ever lose touch – Santana will kill them, if they even tried – so she doesn't stress a bit.

Santana's parents, after taking a leaf out of Marley's mom's book, applies for practices based in the California area, claiming a need for a change in scenery, but Santana tells them it's okay, she knows she's an only child, so they don't have to hide their desperation to be closer to her in their move.

And, well, this is it, Santana thinks.

This is her life now, this is the end she wanted, and honestly, she's never ever – ever ever ever times a hundred – been fucking happier.

–

They bring 2023 in the same way as they always did, all those years ago, and talk about coming full circle, Santana thinks.

It's the last New Year's they'll ever be spending in Lima. With her parents moving, she sees no reason to come back here, her whole life will be in Los Angeles now, so.

Santana tugs the blanket up, snuggling closer against Marley on their car hood, smirking as she thinks back to that damned New Year's seven years ago when she thought all hope was lost. And now, sitting here, well. She can't even really remember what it felt like, to be that miserable.

She and Marley have been trading soft kisses all evening, alternating between watching the view and watching each other, trying not to break the calm spell cast upon them tonight.

Marley lies on her shoulder as they watch the fireworks, but sits up halfway through and places a quick kiss to Santana's cheek.

When the last of the fireworks are being cast, she hears Marley call her name softly, in a tone that Santana's never heard within the ten years that she's known her. Santana whips her head towards Marley quickly to make sure that everything is okay, split second of panic dying down when she sees the gentle smile on Marley's face.

Then she sees Marley's arm move toward her and Marley quirks her eyebrows, and Santana catches a glint of something held in Marley's fingers – when she looks down, she gasps.

"I thought it would be cool if we were together forever," Marley says, trying to sound nonchalant, but Santana can see a hint of trepidation in her eyes.

For fucking once, Santana thinks, she's not the fucking silly one between them, because how could Marley ever doubt that Santana would say no?

So, Santana's just breaks into a grin and Marley follows, and then a ring is being slipped onto her finger and Santana kisses, kisses, kisses and fucking kisses Marley until they can't breath anymore, and _oh_, Santana thinks.

Fucking. _Oh_.

Santana rests her forehead against Marley's and sighs against her lips.

Then, she simply whispers, "Deal."


End file.
